Every Moment
by shandiss
Summary: The aftermath of a distraction job places Steph in danger from men used to getting what they want. Ranger steps in to protect her, and the conflict puts her on a collision course with the decision that will change her future forever. Rated M for content, language and explosions/gunfights/character peril. Completely Babe.
1. Chapter 1

_All characters belong to Janet Evanovich. Completely Babe. Rated M for mature content, adult situations and language. Mistakes, illogical circumstances and unrepentant romantic encounters of the Ranger kind are entirely my fault._

 _ **I close my eyes the moment I surrender to you….**_

 _ **-Il Divo**_

 _Move like water…flow through the crowd, through the music. Let the lights be the sparkles on the surface of the stream. Dance. Let the current guide you through the crowd and do not be afraid to touch the stones in your path. For once be who you've always wanted to be._

The words of her dancing instructor floated through her mind, clearly audible over the music that pounded in time with her pulse. The overheated air of the packed club warmed every inch of her exposed skin, straight into the bottom of her soul. Men's eyes followed her body, hot with undisguised lust at how much creamy skin really was exposed, from her arms to most of her back, her waist and down to her long, smooth legs. This was the way she'd planned it, and this was exactly the way she wanted it.

Stephanie Plum always got her man, and in the crowded confines of the exclusive New York club, she drew the attention of the only man in the entire room who mattered.

His dark eyes met hers through the crush of people, and as the depths ignited in an entirely male response to her walk and her clothes, the slow smile on her lips invited him to do something about it. And just like she'd always hoped, Ricardo Carlos Manoso wasn't a man to let a challenge like that go unanswered.

A sharp chime interrupted the music, shattering it as easily as a dropped plate. Stephanie blinked, then groaned inwardly as the club vanished into the mists of sleep and she opened her eyes to the plain and definitely unglamorous walls of her low-rent apartment bedroom. One hand slapped the alarm on the bedside table into silence as the last little pleasant bit of dream escaped.

 _That is so not fair!_

The sigh sounded more like a growl as she rolled over and stuffed her pillow between her arms and her head, burying her face into it and hiding from what the unrelenting sunlight pouring through her window refused to let her forget: the weekend was over and she had other skips to catch.

The growl became a groan as she threw the covers back and the cool air hit her bare skin. The black t-shirt she'd paired with boy shorts last night had ridden up to expose her stomach, and the flesh prickled as it tried to adjust to the difference between the cocoon of blankets and the not-yet-heated air of a Jersey fall morning. For one really brief moment, Stephanie was tempted to pull the covers back to her chin and forget about rising _or_ shining, but she knew if she didn't show up at the bonds office either Lula or Connie would be obsessively dialing her cell phone, landline and, if those didn't work, her mother's phone.

And nothing said _get up right now you lazy child_ than having to listen to her mother's voice on the answering machine demanding answers she didn't want to give.

Resolute, Steph swung her legs over the side of the mattress and heaved herself upright. The usual stagger into the bathroom for her shower wasn't quite so bad anymore; the training she'd opted to take for the distraction last week had paid off in more ways than one. Her coordination had improved markedly, her body was toned in a way that made people stop and stare, and her stamina was easily doubled what it had been.

The memory of the expression on Lester's face when he picked her up for the drive to New York Friday night had been worth the weeks of watching tapes, drowning in sweat in a private dance studio and discussing minute clothing details with Ella. Ranger's housekeeper worked magic with her needle that was worthy of a Hollywood red carpet. Between the barely-there dark metallic sequined halter drape top with a thin diamond-encrusted strap across her bare back and the matching tailored short skirt with Swarovski crystal fringe brushing against her toned upper thighs, poor Lester didn't stand a chance. She'd opened the door in her outfit and hit record on the cell phone as his jaw dropped, his eyeballs bugged out and his tongue pretty much unrolled across the floor.

Steph had turned and walked back to her living room, swaying her hips just a little to make the fringe dance. A loud _thump_ behind her was the only signal that the man who picked up women like a spider picked up flies had just walked into her foyer wall. That reaction had been satisfying, but the only one she wanted was from the man who _hadn't_ picked her up for the drive into the City.

She blinked and was back in her bathroom, staring at a woman in the mirror who still had the blonde sun-kissed tips in her dark curly hair but that was where the glamour ended. This was Stephanie Plum after the fact, and this was her unglamorous life that might have amused Ranger for a few moments but couldn't compare with the rich, sophisticated socialites in that club who looked like they should be on the arm of such a gorgeous man.

A breath of air escaped her, lifting one of the curls on her forehead. It tumbled down again, stubbornly refusing to be anywhere than where it wanted to be, and she blinked back the sudden sting in her eyes.

 _Ranger always hints but he never comes out and says anything. And I probably scared him off for good when I told him to change his destination. Dammit._

Her cell phone started singing loudly in the bedroom and Steph hesitated only a brief moment before shutting the door and locking it. The phone fell silent, than started in again and she hastily turned on the shower to drown it out.

 _If I tell Lula I was in the shower, I need to make sure it's at least marginally true or she won't forgive me._

The apartment was blessedly silent when Steph finally emerged from the bathroom, her hair scooped back in a poufy ponytail and the sleepwear swapped out for a plain white t-shirt and comfy blue jeans. Since she expected to be chasing down whatever low level skips Connie might have saved for her, Steph bypassed her impractical selection of shoes and opted instead for the sturdy CAT work boots.

As she picked up her cell phone from the bedside table, Steph debated for all of thirty seconds as to whether or not she should check the voicemails. With a sigh, she checked the oldest one and rolled her eyes at the name attached to it. Before Steph could talk herself out of it, she hit the play symbol as she walked towards the kitchen.

"Cupcake, you haven't been around lately. Nobody's seen you at the station. Manoso's goons have been bringing in the skips you usually take. What have you gotten yourself into this time? Call me."

Steph opened the fridge and bent over, hunting for the cluster of green grapes Ella left for Rex when she restocked the food supplies before the distraction. Her fingers closed over one firm green grape as Morelli paused on the recording and, evidently forgetting he hadn't disconnected, continued speaking.

"Damn it, Terry. Would you quit with that? I'm trying to talk on the phone and you're not helping by—".

The voicemail hit its upper time limit and cut out, mercifully before her sometime-boyfriend could finish his sentence. Steph straightened, the remnants of the burst grape covering her fingers and tore off a piece of paper towel to clean it up.

"Sorry, buddy," she said, plucking two more and dropping them in the hamster's food dish. Rex stuffed one in each cheek, waited to see if more was forthcoming, then darted back into the soup can to feast on the jackpot. While he was busy with his haul, she changed out his water and topped off his hamster nuggets before leaving him in peace.

Her glance fell on the phone lying on the counter. The usual thing to do was to delete Joe's message and forget it ever happened. They were in what she considered an off-phase, or more accurately not-close-enough-to-on-to-matter. Joe and she were both adults, and the decision about what form their relationship would take was mutual. Just because he inadvertently revealed that he was enjoying more benefits from that decision than she was didn't mean she could hold it against him.

At least, not until she put on her big girl panties and let him know that the rules had changed. That would be the mature, adult thing to do.

Being mature sucked sometimes. She hit the next name in line and went back to rummaging in the refrigerator. If Steph knew anything about Ella from a few years' worth of acquaintance, the Godsend of a woman would put something delectable in there just because she knew how much Steph liked her food. Something sinful and maybe even a little bit bad for her—

"Ah- _ha_!"

Steph snagged the Boston Crème from the opaque white container hidden behind the veggie tray. She took a bite out of it before straightening, her eyes closing a little as the sugary, fat-filled treat soothed her starving junk food hormones.

"White girl, I know you've been busy as my man lately, but that don't mean you can dodge your friend responsibilities. No matter how late you got in Friday night, you've had Saturday to recover. Call me and we'll hash out what the streets been sayin' about Super Cop. He ain't been sittin' home waiting for you to get unbusy, if you know what I mean."

She chewed and swallowed the suddenly tasteless lump, wincing as it congealed into a hard knot that didn't go down easily and then sat in the pit of her stomach like a leaden weight. Lula meant well, Steph knew that she did, but sometimes knowing wasn't better. Denial worked very well indeed, except she had the same problem that Ranger had—what she was doing wasn't getting her any closer to where she wanted to be.

 _Next exhibit to be entered into evidence on my life?_

Connie this time. "Hey Steph! Sorry to bother you on the weekend. I heard you were up in New York doing some work for Ranger, so you probably won't listen to your messages until Sunday. No rush, but we have a stack of low bond skips waiting for you at the office for pick up Monday morning. Better get here early—Vinnie says if you don't do as good a job as RangeMan he's going to give all of the work to them."

Steph made a face at the phone, taking another bite out of the fried roll and forcing it down. She put the remnants on a corner of paper towel she hastily ripped off the roll and grabbed the container of milk off the top shelf of the fridge. Out of horrible experience, she cracked it open and sniffed before taking a healthy swig from it.

Wiping her mouth on the back of her hand, Steph picked up the fried roll again and hit the next message on the list.

"Stephanie, this is your mother. You haven't called or talked to any of us for days. Maria Galli hears from her daughters every morning and every evening. They don't ignore their family for months on end, never letting their mother know if they're even still breathing. Call me the instant you hear this, young lady, so your father won't have to drive around looking for you in the alleys and ditches."

A tiny tremor at the corner of her right eye became a full-bore spasm before her mother reached the end of the last sentence. A twinge across her right temple heralded a headache that would lead to pulling the shades and staying in bed for the rest of the day. She could ignore the world for just one more day, and maybe the dream would come back and she could see where it was supposed to end.

Steph's eyes fell on the phone and she sighed. _Or not._

Pushing away from the counter, she scanned the rest of the list. There were four left in the queue—two more from her mother, one from Lula an hour ago and another from a blocked number that came just as she was getting out of the shower.

Her finger hovered over it as Steph debated with herself. She didn't have any stalkers that she knew of, and she hadn't given out her personal number to anyone at the club before the pick up. And none of the Merry Men would give out this number, either.

The tip of her finger touched the screen. The display changed as the digital playback started.

"Babe." Ranger's voice sounded tired. "Watch your back. We're hearing rumblings on Stark of something going down. Take someone with you if you're working this week. I'll—"

The voicemail cut off to dead silence. No static of an open connection, just emptiness as the little play indicator dot slid across the screen until it reached the end. Steph stared at it for a long moment, wanting to replay the message until the screaming of her spidey sense stopped.

"No."

Steph grabbed the phone instead, ready to hit the speed dial #1 and let Ranger answer and tell her everything was all right. Before she could argue against it, she touched the button and prayed that he would answer on the first ring.

 _One. Two. Three._

It didn't go to voicemail. The ringing just stopped and her phone beeped rapidly to let her know the connection had failed to go through.

Her fingers shook as she hit the same button again, and the shaking got worse, settling in the pit of her stomach as the connection cut off on the third ring again. Instead of trying the number for the third time, Steph scrolled through her contact list and punched up the RangeMan control room. It rang once.

"RangeMan. Vince speaking."

Stephanie forced herself to take a deep breath. "This is Stephanie Plum. Where's Ranger?"

A moment's worth of silence, the equivalent to a giant neon sign shrieking that something was very, very wrong. Her grip on the phone tightened as the shaking got worse. Steph sat down at the dining table, perched on the edge of the cracked vinyl chair as she fought down the panic that always seemed to grow too easily these days when Ranger worked a dangerous job.

"He's not reachable at the moment, Bombshell. Tank's with him. They're checking out a lead on Stark regarding a possible power play between gangs."

Vince's voice wasn't strained at all, and he didn't stumble over the words. Either he wasn't worried or he was a better actor than she was. Either way, the panic subsided a little and gave her the chance to draw in a deep breath before the spots in front of her eyes became one big black hole.

"You need me to pass a message along?"

Her eyes went to the aquarium on the kitchen counter, where Rex had hopped on his wheel and was spinning with the determination of a rodent going nowhere as fast as he could. Somehow the normal sight of her little pet doing what he did best gave her the courage to straighten her spine.

"No, that's okay. I'm heading to the bonds office to pick up my skips, then I'll drop by to see Ranger later in the morning. Do you think he'll be in by then?"

"I don't see why not. I'll leave a note on the status board so if he gets in before that he'll see the message. Watch your back, Bombshell."

Vince hung up before she could say good-bye, leaving Steph to pull the phone away from her ear and stare at it with a bemused air. If there was one thing that she could count on, it seemed that it was the bad phone etiquette of every man employed by Carlos Manoso. Oddly enough, it was comforting, something that would always happen, in perpetuity, until there were no longer phones to hang up.

 _How would you hang up on somebody telepathically?_ Steph thought as she got to her feet. She was focused on that stray thought, not on anything that she was doing, and true to form, that was when the Universe decided she'd had it quiet enough.

The phone slipped out of her grip, sliding inexorably from her fingers and headed for the linoleum. Steph made a grab for it, but only succeeding in altering the trajectory of disaster enough that the screen slammed into the edge of the table before tumbling to the floor.

It was cracked at best. Years of experience told her that before she even picked it up and flipped it over. Shards of clear plastic fell on the worn linoleum and the edges dug into her skin as she carefully turned it in her hands.

The screen was dark and only the outer edges of the protective plastic still clung desperately to the phone. Even when she shook it, there wasn't any flicker of life on the screen.

Nada. Zip.

"Guess I'm going to be begging for some searches to do, too," she told Rex as she set the pieces on the corner of the counter next to his aquarium. "If I'm lucky, Ranger will need a couple of distractions as well and I'll be able to buy another phone with a better case without starving both of us and getting the electricity turned off."

Brave words, and for a moment Steph allowed herself to believe them. But then she thought about the meals she would have to scrounge at her parents' and the viewings her grandmother would want to go to and she almost broke down.

 _Just when it seems I'm getting better at things, and I have a handle on this whole being-an-adult, something happens and I tumble right back into living hand to mouth._

The Stephanie who hadn't been to New York and helped take down a federally wanted arms dealer in an exclusive nightclub might have blown off the bonds office and maxed out her credit cards just for the relief of spending a day in retail denial. But the Stephanie who had planned and worked and sweated didn't want to give up the confidence of knowing that she was in control because she had worked to get there, so she opened her large purse and swept the pieces of her cell phone into the side pocket. She zipped it closed so nothing would spill out at a bad time, then considered her cookie jar for a long time.

 _Ranger said_ watch your back. _He didn't say that he was assigning a team to me. So either the situation doesn't warrant that much caution or he trusts me to take some responsibility for my own safety._

It sounded great when she said the words in her head, but lifting her gun out of the cookie jar and checking to make sure there were bullets in the chamber gave her a cold chill. Her fingers wrapped around the muzzle for a moment, the cool metal sliding beneath her touch with a smoothness that brought out a purely instinctive shudder.

Before she could argue enough with herself to put the gun back in the cookie jar, Steph checked the safety and slid the weapon into the main compartment of her purse, making sure it was balanced on top of the shifting mass of stuff instead of buried beneath hit. Vince's last warning echoed Ranger's too much for her to ignore it.

"I'll see you in a bit, Rex," she said as she slung the strap of the purse over her shoulder. The bag itself rested against her hip, held there by her elbow and well within reach of her hand if she needed it. Her hamster didn't answer, and she didn't need to look back at him to know that he had retreated to his soup can for a well-earned nap.

She took the stairs down this morning, for some odd reason not comfortable with being in the enclosed elevator for any length of time. Her spidey sense still hadn't quieted down; if anything she was more jumpy than ever as she pushed open the glass door.

The mid-morning warmth of a New Jersey fall day hit her squarely in the face, and Steph paused a moment to savor the heat. It was just like her native state—upfront, no excuses, bold and brash—and it gave her a little more courage, or at least the feeling that she wasn't quite alone.

To her surprise, the rusted out Camry started on the first try. Steph swallowed her surprise and threw it into gear before it could change its mind about working. The engine kept purring like a contented cat through the parking lot and into the street, and except for one very bad moment when turning onto Hamilton, it never even so much as hiccuped.

By the time Steph reached the bonds office, she was teetering between astonishment at the number of traffic lights that had turned green and uneasiness at how bad her luck would be for the rest of the day to balance those out. The legend of the Bombshell Bounty Hunter almost required it, and she took a deep breath to steel herself for the inevitable before getting out of the car.

Nothing. Nothing but the warming sun and the smells of a Trenton street that hadn't seen a good downpour for too long to wash away the accumulated smells from the local population of citizens, both upstanding and not. A few honking horns from several blocks over, and a distant siren that was soon joined by another one going in the opposite direction. All in all, an ordinary pedestrian morning in New Jersey.

Inside the bonds office was no different. Connie sat behind her desk, waving her right hand in the air as she waited for her newest coat of polish to dry. Across the room on the cracked fake leather couch, Lula paged through a free issue of _Trenton's Modern Woman_ and shook her head so her beaded cornrows clacked in the quiet room.

"Hey, Steph!" Connie said as she altered one of her gestures to wave. "Sorry about bothering you on the weekend, but Vinnie is throwing a fit. Seems like every small time criminal decided to not show up for court dates last week."

She jerked her chin towards the substantial pile of filing folders on the corner of her desk, and Steph peeled off the top two inches of the stack and went to join Lula on the couch. The cushions groaned as she sat down and her face went hot as Connie covered a snicker. A glance to the side showed Lula pursing her lips, pretending to be engrossed in the article about local female business movers and shakers, but the shadow of a smile kept slipping through.

"I had _one_ Boston Crème this morning for breakfast," said Steph defensively. "I'm not fat."

"Never said you were, white girl," Lula said, glancing up from the magazine. "You're way too scrawny to be called full-figured by even a blind man. The funny part is it wouldn't matter how much you don't eat; this here couch would still complain like you were settling a dump truck on it."

"And don't think we haven't noticed that you've been working out." Connie blew lightly on the tip of her index finger and frowned at it for a moment. "Quite a few people have been commenting on how good you're looking and wondering who the new man in your life is that you're doing it for."

Even in the silence that fell after her statement, Steph could hear the thoughts clicking over in both women's minds. Both had a bloodhound's nose for gossip, and if they could pry the information out of her first it would mean major points on the Burg grapevine for both of them.

She flipped a page in the first folder, not really seeing the words on the paper. There were a few options open to her with Lula and Connie, and she wasn't quite sure which way she wanted to go. As she glanced up, her memory flashed back to that voicemail from Joe and she grimaced.

"Uh-oh, that don't look good." Lula closed the magazine and balanced it on the edge of the couch arm. "Don't tell me you've been shacking up with Super Cop again."

"I haven't seen Joe in over three weeks, and that was just in passing at the station. He left a message on my cell phone over the weekend." Steph hated the way her voice went soft and frail when she talked about her supposed boyfriend. She heaved out a sigh and glanced out the window, hoping she could blame the sudden stinging in her eyes from the glare of the sunlight on her car's windshield.

"And?" prompted Connie, leaning closer and forgetting completely about her still-wet nails.

Steph coughed into her hand, and when the other woman stared at her, fluttered her fingers in the air. Connie jerked back with a curse that she hadn't learned in a Catholic senior high and surveyed the damage with a mournful air.

"Damn it. That was my last one, too." She muttered something else in Italian that didn't sound at all polite and rummaged carefully through her desk drawers for the polish remover. "That doesn't get you off the hook, Steph. So spill."

They were both looking at her with the steely-eyed gaze of hungry predators sizing up lunch, and in her panic to avoid divulging everything she knew, Steph grasped whatever inspiration she could find. Even if it was an old standby.

"Will you look at the time?" she asked, flipping her wrist over to check her non-existent watch. "Can't talk. Gotta go. I'll work through these and come back for the rest later, Connie. Bye!"

Her timing was impeccable, her acting top of the line. Steph bounced off the couch and was heading for the door when she made the fatal mistake of glancing over her shoulder to gauge her safety margin before either of the two women could stop her. That brief look lasted no more than a half step, and before she could face forward again, Steph hit a solid wall and bounced off.

The folders slipped dangerously, and between trying to keep her balance and her papers, Steph overcorrected and leaned too far to her right. She was going down, and it wasn't going to be pretty.

Only she didn't. Hands she recognized too well wrapped around her upper arms and held her upright with an easy strength that made her heart give a few extra beats before she could rein in her hormones and her fantasies.

Steph allowed herself a few seconds to enjoy the warmth of the skin touching hers, but had to stop herself from remembering other places his skin was warm.

 _And his eyes…and his mouth…and his—_

"Babe."

She made a desperate grab for the folders, even though they hadn't slipped at all, and looked up to see herself reflected in Ranger's aviator shades. The corners of his mouth tipped up slightly and she flushed, realizing that she was once again amusing him.

"Ranger," she said, pleased when her voice came out much stronger than before. "I didn't expect you to be here. Vince said—"

His fingers squeezed her arms and she broke off, confused. Ranger didn't let go of her, and Steph's spidey sense started clamoring in the back of her brain again. Her eyes narrowed as she took in his usual outfit of black t-shirt, cargoes and boots, all of them showing signs that they had not just been put on fresh. Her nostrils flared and she caught the very faint scent of Bvlgari mixed with the acrid tone of gunpowder and male sweat.

"Vince said you'd been out all night chasing a lead," she finished, adroitly dodging the trap of revealing too much. Or at least more than he wanted her to. Another squeeze this time, and his smile become a little more pronounced.

Ranger nudged her back towards the couch, letting the door swing shut behind him. "Pretty much. Informants aren't giving it up as easy this time, and they freak at the sight of a black SUV. We've had to literally chase more informants down alleys than I can remember having to do for a long time. Something has them spooked, and we can't find out what it is."

He sat her down on the couch and took a step back, pushing up his sunglasses so she could see his dark eyes. Her first instinct had been correct, back when she first listened to his voicemail. The tightness around those eyes, along with the hard light shining in their depths, and the grim set of his mouth told her more than she wanted to know about how seriously Ranger was taking this job. And it made Steph wonder exactly what information was so important that he would invest his own personal time in finding it out.

So she perched on the edge of the couch, and waited for Ranger to say something. The silence stretched out until Steph would swear she could hear the seconds ticking by. She shifted a little, easing her butt farther back onto the cushions, then smothered a surprised squeak as Ranger crouched down in front of her.

"Babe, where have you been this weekend?"

"Um, at home. I stayed in both days." Steph blinked as something swept over his face, then it was gone. "What's this all about? Why are you chasing people on Stark?"

He passed a hand over his face as if to erase the tiredness. "Bad news. Someone saw you at the club and followed us back. They've been pretty free with their money on the streets, and made it known that they're willing to pay more for your delivery."

"Delivery?" Her voice went up several notches. "As in _kidnapping_?"

"Worse."

Her mind spun, the possibilities of what could be defined as 'worse' chasing each other in a mad circle. Then the door opened and Ranger jumped, turning and drawing his gun before he'd even straightened. He held his body between her and the door, shielding her from whomever had come in. For a long moment he didn't move, then abruptly he stepped to the side and holstered the weapon at the small of his back.

Tank stood just over the threshold, his bulk blocking out the light. "Bomber. Ladies."

"What's going on here?" Connie demanded, her eyes darting from Tank to Ranger to Steph and back again. "Are you trying to tell us that someone is after Steph?"

Lula bounced up from the couch where she had been unnaturally silent. "I better not have heard right that you got her into this, either. You're Batman—what you gonna do about it?"

The look came back into Ranger's eyes and Steph made a cutting motion with her hand. "Lula!"

"Oh, no, white girl. If'n he done something, it's up to him to make it right." She put her hands on her hips, her chin going down in the last warning before Lula hit rhino mode. "Listen up, here. You better—"

Something flashed outside, too fast to be seen. Before it fully registered, Ranger was spinning towards her, grabbing her arms and shoving her towards the floor with his body covering hers. Then a thunderous roar hit them and the glass at the front of the office shattered in a million pieces as flame enveloped the street outside.


	2. Chapter 2

_All characters belong to Janet Evanovich. Completely Babe. Rated M for mature content, adult situations and language. Mistakes, illogical circumstances and unrepentant romantic encounters of the Ranger kind are entirely my fault. Please see the author's note at the end of the chapter for the mandatory public service announcement._

The aftermath of an explosion was a strange thing. Maybe she'd been too close to too many, especially given her history with cars, but Steph could almost tick of off the list of things that happened when things went _kaboom_.

Concussive blast. _Check._ Fireball. _Check._ Ringing ears, stinging cuts from flying glass and certainty of massive damage to property. _Definitely check._

Carefully, Steph put her palms flat against the floor and started to push herself up. The heavy weight across her back and legs eased a little, and the air stirred past her ear.

"Stay still," Ranger breathed from his position above her, his words barely audible. "Don't move."

She let herself sink back to the ground as her hearing started to come back from the blast. The roar of flames consuming whatever cars had been parked in front of the bonds office, the—

Her mind skidded to a halt. Cars. As in _her_ car. As in the sweet little car that had started so nicely for her this morning and hadn't complained one bit on the drive over here. _That car._

A whimper escaped her, and Ranger froze. He bent over her, his hands checking her back and shoulders for injuries.

"Are you hurt?" he asked tersely.

"My car," she whispered. "It started this morning on the first try. That's the only time it's ever done that."

His laugh was so faint that Steph wasn't quite sure she heard it. Ranger squeezed her shoulders and was gone, crawling across the floor littered with sparkling glass dust as he checked on Connie behind the desk, and Lula sheltered behind Tank's large bulk. He exchanged a few words with his second in command, shook his head once and then waited as Lula dug into her cleavage and fished out the keys to her beloved Firebird.

Tank shifted his position as Ranger turned back towards Steph. His HK .45 looked small in his hand as he aimed towards the hole in the office wall where black smoke and flame licked at the front of the building.

As Ranger settled his body between her and the carnage once again, Steph saw the tiny cuts in his face and neck where the flying glass had sliced. Glass dust glittered in his dark hair and a larger dark stain soaked his t-shirt at the point of his right shoulder.

"You're hurt," she said, and he grimaced.

"Keep your voice down," he said, his own low enough that she could barely hear. "We're going out the back way."

He saw her glance at Lula. "Tank is covering the front. We've both hit the panic buttons and there should be backup arriving from RangeMan any second. But we can't stay here. They'll rush the building through the rubble hoping to get lucky and take us out to get to you."

"That's suicide."

"Yeah."

The look was back in his eyes, and Steph remembered where she had seen it before. Ranger had the exact same expression when he walked into her apartment, his hands upraised and weaponless, to confront Scrog.

Steph grabbed for his hand and felt the keys shift in his grip beneath her fingers. "You're coming with me, mister. Don't even think for a second that I won't turn around and come back for you if you try wading into them with guns blazing. I will throw myself in front of you, if that's what it takes."

"Babe," he said, but she shook her head.

"No. We do this together or not at all."

Ranger searched her face, but evidently didn't find anything that would give him hope of changing her mind. A very faint sigh escaped him, and he glanced over his shoulder. A shape moved in the thick smoke and he drew his gun and took aim, not firing until he could see if it was friend or foe.

"This is how we're going to do it," he said quietly, watching that shape. "Crawl towards the back door. Tank and Lula are going to take cover here once we're out of the way. Wait for me by the door, but not directly in front of it. Stay low and shelter in the doorway of the bathroom."

A shudder went through Steph, then it became a flinch as someone fired through the wreckage at the front of the office. Tank and Ranger returned fire together, and Connie peeked around the corner of her desk and got off a shot with her snub-nosed .38.

"Time to go," said Ranger, and Steph scrambled to her hands and knees and scuttled towards the back of the office. She didn't have time to think, let alone be afraid, until she realized the staccato sounds chasing after her were bullets hitting the fake paneled walls.

Her shoulder ran into the side of the bathroom door and she twisted so she landed on her butt. It hurt, but it didn't matter as Ranger crowded her closer to the wall. He fired another shot down the hallway and she saw the blood slicking the back of his hand from the glass cuts. For one horrifying moment, Steph's stomach lurched and she clenched her teeth against the Boston Crème that didn't want to stay down.

"Babe." Ranger's free hand shoved the car keys into both of hers. "When I give you the signal, run to the car. Get in and start it, but don't put it in drive until I tell you. Go out the back over the curb and get to a northbound road any way you can. Keep going until you're in the middle of Pennsylvania then pull over and call RangeMan. Whatever you do, don't go into the Burg. Right now they only know you're connected to me. They'll expect you to go where you're comfortable, and you don't want them looking too close to home."

Her eyes widened as the retort from Tank's .45 echoed in the building. The edges of the keys dug into her skin as she curled her fingers around them. " _We're_ going to Pennsylvania, Ranger. _We_ are going to get into that car together, and we are going to evade whoever-it-is until _we_ can figure out how to flatten them."

"Stephanie."

Full name. _Crap_.

"No. I will grab your hand, I will turn back, _I will not leave you_."

Another explosion shook the building, showering plaster and ceiling tile down on them. Ranger covered her instinctively, and in that moment, with her forehead resting against his knees, Steph's resolve hardened. If she had to drag him across the pitted pavement of Vinnie's back lot to the Firebird, she would do it.

Even under fire. Even if it meant taking a bullet. Because she wasn't going to watch him get shot again.

When Ranger moved back, Steph straightened and gave him a look that would have impressed her mother. It was the Burg mother _don't mess with me_ look, and she hoped it got the message across.

He stared at her for a moment, then nodded. "Fine. Go first. Get in the passenger side, start the car and then huddle in the foot well. Don't pop your head up for any reason at all. I'll drive. But if you hear me yell, climb over the console and drive. No arguments."

 _In your dreams._

She didn't say it, though. Protesting would use up precious seconds, and she needed Ranger to be focused on getting them out of there. On impulse, Steph leaned forward and brushed a soft kiss against his lips, her fingertips gentle against his jaw. As she straightened, she caught the flash of astonishment in his dark eyes.

"What was that for?"

"Luck," she said, and shifted so her feet were under her. "I figured we'd need everything we could get."

For one moment Steph thought Ranger was going to kiss her back, but then he shook his head slightly and slid a hand under her arm. He guided her through the thickening smoke to the back door and positioned her so his body was still shielding her from any stray shots that might penetrate through the door or walls.

One moment of quiet was all the unseen attackers allowed them. Ranger eased the door open so it wouldn't squeak, opening it wide enough that she could slip through if she turned sideways. Steph angled her body and slid her foot the first step outside. No gunfire greeted her first movement, so she screwed up her courage and took the next step. And the next.

Ranger followed hard on her heels, so close that she could feel the heat from his body. He was radiating other things, too, things that made her spidey sense go to full alert. It was like walking in front of a barely contained force of nature, where the only hint of the power about to be unleashed was the distant flicker of lightning and the soft rumble of thunder.

His fingers touched the inside of her arm and Steph stopped. Her hands shook as they clutched Lula's keys, and she said a silent prayer for her friends as the sound of more gunfire echoed off the surrounding buildings.

In the brief moment of stillness, plastered against the back wall of the bonds office, Steph found herself surprisingly calm. When Ranger gave her the signal, she would sprint across the open area that seemed longer than a football field to where Lula's Firebird sat angled into a parking spot. There would be bullets flying, and maybe an explosion or two, and a high possibility of being hit by either the bullets or flying shrapnel. But she wasn't afraid. In the moment with Ranger so close that she could feel every breath he took, all she felt was determination that whoever was out there wasn't going to win.

"Go."

She ran, her purse bumping against her hip and her head down. Everything was quiet and she was on the verge of thinking that they would make it to the Firebird without mishap when her broken cell phone chose that moment to come to life. The opening notes of _I Wanna Be Bad_ blared out in the quiet, and Steph fumbled with the side pocket, desperately trying to get her hands on the phone and silence it.

Ranger's hand came under her elbow, lifting her up and propelling her forward. Steph's feet left the ground, and she yelped in surprise as a hail of gunfire erupted from the far corner of the bonds office. Bullets pinged off the body of the Firebird and her cell phone kept singing about all the ways Willa wanted to be bad for her man.

They made it to the rear of the car, protected partially by the trunk, and that was when Ranger gave her a hard push that sent her sprawling onto the pavement. Skin peeled off the palms of her hands and the keys flew towards the front tire as Steph landed hard on her right hip and skidded.

Bright hot pain blossomed, shooting fire through her fingers and up her arms to her shoulders. Steph gasped, then gritted her teeth when that just made everything hurt more. She blinked against the involuntary tears and her gaze landed on the keys, jumbled together on the ground next to the car. True to form, now that the damage was done, her cell phone had gone quiet.

Slowly, Steph inched forward. A heavy weight across her lower legs pulled her to a stop, and she glanced over her shoulder to see Ranger on his side, her feet trapped underneath him as he kept up a steady fire. His holdout .357 was in his left hand and he changed out the clip even as he squeezed off regular shots with the .45 in his right. It was an astonishing display of coordination and skill that was sexier than hell, and Steph automatically checked her chin for drool.

 _Lusting after him in the middle of a gun fight. Only me._

For a moment she heard her mother lamenting _Why me?_ in the back of her mind, but she stuffed that particular voice back into the far reaches of her mind and concentrated on the here-and-now. Like getting the keys. And getting the hell out of this parking lot.

 _One thing at a time._

Slowly Steph strained forward, reaching for the keys without exposing too much of herself to a potentially lucky shot. Her fingers brushed against the closest one and the entire clump clinked, shifting farther away. The curse she let slip wasn't particularly vile, but she heard Ranger laugh softly behind her, then the sound of another clip hitting the pavement.

"Grab it, Babe," he said. "I'll cover you."

The rate of gunfire increased as Ranger burned through his extra ammunition at a high rate. A lick of panic that he would run out before they were in the car gave her the impetus to grab the keys. Ranger shifted so she could scramble to her feet and crouch beside the car, her thumb moving over the unlock button.

The sound of the automatic locks disengaging was a sweet, sweet sound. Steph fit her fingers into the handle and lifted, easing the door open as slowly as possible to cover what she was doing. Once the opening was large enough, she scrambled inside and followed Ranger's instructions: huddle in the foot well and get the car started.

It took three tries to get the key fitted into the ignition. The engine sputtered then caught, the roar rising above the gunfire. Just as Steph did a little victory dance, a ricochet struck the back window.

Steph ducked instinctively, then cautiously peeked around the seat to assess the damage. The spiderweb cracks ran from a center point where the bullet had buried itself. Then her heart stopped beating when she saw the smear of red on the glass, and she scrabbled to turn around and out the door without stopping to think about the risk.

"Ranger!"

He held onto the rear tire, using it to keep himself upright. Red dripped off his elbow and stained both his right pants leg and the ground beneath it. Fear clutched at her as he seemed to lean into the side of the car, his gun dropping to his side, and she acted. Scrambling out of the car, she wrapped her arms around his upper chest and dragged him towards the open passenger door with the strength of sheer desperation.

Steph cursed both her own lack of muscle and his overabundance of bulk as she wrestled him into the car. Ranger tried to help her, bracing against the doorframe to push himself into the seat, but he collapsed halfway there and Steph had to tuck his legs in and shut the door as carefully as she could.

A bullet kicked up bits of asphalt next to her, and Steph took one shaky breath to fortify herself. Her right hand dropped towards her purse and fished around until she found the exact thing that she neither wanted to need nor wished to use. But she didn't know how badly Ranger was injured, and she refused to let him die in a parking lot because she was too chicken to use her gun.

Without Ranger returning fire, the unseen gunmen stepped up their attack until the bullets were pinging off the Firebird like hail. Gripping the barrel of her gun in both hands, Steph slid down the side of the car and inched towards the front, knowing that she could use the engine block for cover but there would be a few precious moments when she would be completely exposed as she ran for the driver's side door.

Steph leaned against the shiny bumper and gathered her courage. Sirens rose above the chaos of the gunfire and the crackle of the flames devouring the cars in the street. She offered a silent prayer for Tank, Lula and Connie, that they were still safe, and then prayed for her friends on the police force who would be wading into the conflict. A tiny ache in her heart thought of Joe among the men taking cover behind their cars and donning SWAT gear to go building to building in case the gangs were still in position to snipe.

She glanced towards the passenger side, even though she couldn't see Ranger. He was depending on her, and she wasn't going to let him down, even if it meant risking a bullet in the back. Or front. Or anywhere that wasn't immediately fatal.

 _I'm not leaving you behind._

Steph adjusted her grip, took her last deep breath, and bolted. The first three steps were unchallenged, and her free hand reached for the door handle. Just as her fingertips brushed the metal, a spray of pavement kicked up in front of her and she flinched, throwing up her hands in an instinctive defensive movement to protect her face.

The realization that it had been a bullet came a split second later, and with it the despair that she was in the open with absolutely no idea where to fire first.

 _Ranger was right. I should be more aware…_

A figure detached from the side of the building, coming around the corner where he'd been hiding and stepping out into the open where she could see him. He was Latino, wearing a dirty wife beater under a shirt left hanging open and jeans torn out at the knees. A colored bandanna held his dark straight hair away from his eyes and gave his dark, dark eyes a surreal look.

There was nothing unreal about the shiny barrel of the Smith & Wesson 5900 semi automatic clutched in his fist. The barrel was steady and leveled directly at her, and Steph had no doubt that he would pull the trigger at the first unwise move on her part.

She put up her hands, holding her own gun with the muzzle towards the sky and her finger off the trigger. Steph reached as deep as she could and dredged up a friendly, non-threatening expression. With any luck it would distract the gang member until she could get inside the Firebird.

 _See? Non-threatening. We all get to go home tonight and laugh about the day. Right?_

"I'll shoot," he called across the distance separating them. "Lay the gun down, or I'll shoot you right now."

"Okay, okay." Steph held the gun away from her body, lowering it with the muzzle pointed away from him. "I'm going to put it down on the ground right in front of me. Slowly. I'm going to do this very slowly, but you need to take your finger off the trigger. I don't want to be following your instructions and still get shot, okay?"

"Do it," he ordered, gesturing with the S&W. Steph was tempted to try getting a shot off while the muzzle wasn't pointing at her, but that little movement was the only opening he gave her. So she crouched slowly, holding her gun away from her, and laid it on the pitted asphalt. She didn't dare look over at the Firebird, knowing that she wouldn't think before acting if she peered inside and saw Ranger bleeding and unconscious.

The gang member beckoned with his free hand, and the jeweled ring embedded in his thumbnail sparkled in the sunlight. "Walk towards me, bitch."

Steph gritted her teeth and chose to let the insult pass. She turned her back to the Firebird and eased forward enough that she was resting against the panel of the back driver's side door.

The gang member gestured again, and as the muzzle traveled far enough away that she was no longer in the direct line of fire, two shots rang out, so close together that they almost sounded like one. The first one hit him high in the chest from the front, spinning him to his left where the second shot from that side knocked him backwards into the building.

He bounced off and crumpled to the ground, his weapon clattering against the pavement. When the gang member didn't immediately move, and Steph scooped up her own weapon and trained it on him, ready to empty her entire clip into him if need be.

Another figure came out of the alley beside the bonds office, holding a gun in the standard two-handed posture. As it moved into the light, Steph recognized Eddie Gazarra. Dressed in a Kevlar vest and protective SWAT helmet with the visor up, the man she'd known since elementary school nudged the gun out of the gang member's reach. His grip on his own weapon was steady and determined, and that alone was enough to kick up the fear inside of Steph again.

"You okay?" Eddie asked in a voice that barely carried across the parking lot.

"I—" Steph yanked open the driver's side door. "Eddie, he's hurt. Get an ambulance—"

The sharp echo of a gunshot ricocheted through the parking lot. She ducked, then glanced at Eddie. He motioned towards the back of the lot.

"Get out of here, Steph. I'll cover for you."

Self-preservation dictated that she jump into the still-running Firebird and hit the accelerator. But loyalty made Steph hesitate, unwilling to leave a good friend to face unknown dangers alone. This was Eddie, her friend and family as well. He supported her even when the other officers made fun of her and—

Another shot, and this time Steph heard the ricochet too close for comfort. She dove into the Firebird, wincing a little as hot pain lanced into her hip and side when she rammed against the center console. Ranger had managed to turn a little in his seat, his eyes closed as his cheek rested against the back edge. The .45 was still in his hand, his finger indexed alongside the muzzle and the muzzle fitted into the cup holder on the console. Steph bit her lip, wanting to check on him, but another shot from the other side of the car decided her. She slammed the door shut and put the car into gear, not even bothering with her seat belt.

Tires squealed on the pavement as the back end of the car fishtailed in her haste, but this time Steph neither winced or backed off on the accelerator. The Firebird bumped over the worn-down curb at the back of the lot and was out in the empty street, taking a wide right turn towards the quickest route to the St. Francis ER.

"Head north," said Ranger.

Steph risked a glance at him and saw he was struggling to sit up. "I'm going to St. Francis."

"No." He breathed out, a sound that would have been pain in anyone else, and Steph risked another glance. Ranger was still curled into himself, and his left hand pressed against his right shoulder as a trickle of blood escaped between his fingers.

"Damn it, Ranger. You've been shot. You need an ER and doctors and nurses." Her nose stuffed up and Steph swiped at it with the back of her hand, as angry now as she had been scared moments earlier. "I did _not_ drag your ass across Vinnie's back lot just to let you bleed out in Lula's Firebird."

His head fell back against the headrest, his skin grayer than she thought possible with his coloring. "Appreciate the…effort…Pennsy…like pla—"

Steph pressed harder on the accelerator, adjusting her burning, sore hands on the steering wheel as the intersection ahead neared. She glanced at Ranger and saw his head loll with the motion of the car, then as if he knew she was still trying to decide, his eyes opened and focused on her.

"Babe."

The nickname was barely audible in the car above the hum of the tires, and Steph might have even ignored it, but then the corners of his mouth tipped up in a faint smile that sealed the deal.

"Damn it, Ranger," she whispered and turned north, away from St. Francis and home and everything that felt safe.

 _Author's note: In the real world, do not take cover from a gunfight behind a friend's Firebird. Allowing it to be perforated like cheap tin by bullets that pack a whole lot more force may be hazardous to your health when aforementioned friend catches up to you. Also, if about to charge into withering gunfire with a hot, sexy mercenary, do not rely on a simple chaste kiss for luck. A certain princess who started the tradition in modern history was actually kissing her brother. Non-related hot, sexy mercenaries require much more for inspiration and will appreciate the sentiment._


	3. Chapter 3

_All characters belong to Janet Evanovich. Completely Babe. Rated M for mature content, adult situations and language. Mistakes, illogical circumstances and unrepentant romantic encounters of the Ranger kind are entirely my fault. Places, names and procedures have been altered to fit the story. I am neither a medical nor law enforcement professional, so all mistakes are mine._

The inside of the car was silent as Steph wove through residential streets as quickly as she could. While she didn't know what Ranger wanted when he said _north to Pennsylvania_ , she decided to head towards Lambertville, cross the Delaware there and then hope that she could find an appropriately secluded spot to make that call to RangeMan.

Whenever a stop light would force her to sit for a few moments, Steph checked the cars and pedestrians, looking for the odd movement or sudden shift that would telegraph danger. At one stop sign on a deserted street, she gently drew the .45 away from Ranger and cleared it before tucking it underneath the seat where a casual passerby wouldn't see it.

As Steph waited to finally merge onto the river road, she took the moment to touch his cheek. He roused a little, enough to blink a few times, before muttering something under his breath and passing out again. His skin had regained some color, but it was cool under her fingertips. As far as she could tell, the bleeding had slowed substantially from the shoulder wound, but there was still too much of it saturating his shirt and the seat beneath him.

She made the turn and checked for tails again. As the Firebird shot north on the divided highway, she thought about the bonds office and how a perfectly normal morning had suddenly turned into a perfectly normal Stephanie Plum-type morning. All because she had been too good on Friday night with the distraction, once again ensnaring people she didn't want while almost losing the only man there she had always wanted.

Ranger moaned softly, his breathing rapid and shallow. The sound tore at her heart, and it took all of her willpower to keep the speed of the Firebird down to the limit instead of flooring the accelerator and hoping a friendly cop would be in the area.

 _Or someone who can tell me what to do. Should I stop? Should I keep going? What if I'm wrong? What if—_

The speed zone changed as they neared the outskirts of Washington Crossing and she reluctantly slowed down. Houses flashed by, yards empty at this time of day when the kids were in school. Kids in school, husband at work and wife bustling about on errands to groceries, delis and bakers.

 _Never thought I'd see the day when that kind of routine would look good._ Steph resisted the urge to check Ranger again, instead concentrating on the road signs. This was a part of New Jersey that she didn't usually visit except when on the trail of a FTA who lived farther out. Steph thought about turning on the radio and trying to get local news about the shoot out, but realized that it would only make things worse. Praying that no one she knew was badly hurt was one thing; knowing that they were was even harder when she couldn't do anything about it.

Her heart pounded in her chest as the tree-lined miles sped by. Soon the signs for Lambertville grew more frequent, and Steph slowed as she guided the car through the narrow streets. It was here that the River Road split off. She chose the westward curve, heading through the historic district and across the narrow bridge spanning the Delaware. Halfway across, Ranger roused suddenly, trying to sit up before collapsing onto the seat again, his breath coming in fast, short gasps.

Steph put a hand out towards him, not quite looking at him but rather finding him by touch. "Stay still, Ranger. You're safe. We're heading for Pennsylvania, just the way you wanted it."

"Babe…what…"

He passed out again, before she could hear the rest of his question and definitely before Steph could ask him any questions of her own. The car wobbled a little on the narrow bridge and she put both hands on the wheel, trying to ignore the Delaware River stretched out to either side and the flimsy rail separating the water from the road.

The dizziness hit Steph just before the car reached solid ground. Everything spun around her in a quick, jerky motion; she scrunched her eyes shut for a quick moment, breathing through her clenched teeth as she turned off into a little wayside park directly to the right of the bridge.

The engine sputtered a little when she turned it off, then died to silence. Steph leaned her forehead against the steering wheel for a minute, focusing on her breathing and waiting for the spinning to stop. Unfortunately, the world decided not to cooperate this time.

Every time she tried to open her eyes, the spinning grew worse until she was fighting to keep her stomach in place. Steph swallowed hard, dreading the bitter taste on her tongue that meant nothing good was coming up. She shivered as a chill raced over her skin and the dizziness redoubled.

"Babe?"

Ranger's voice drew her back, out of the darkness that was threatening to overwhelm her. Steph blinked a few times, cautiously raising her head from the steering wheel enough to turn it towards the passenger seat. Her heart stuttered a bit to find Ranger at least a little more lucid, his dark eyes open and on her.

Even that one word seemed too much for him. He breathed hard through his mouth, wincing and shaking his head a little as if to dispel the pain. A tightness around his mouth bore witness as to how much it cost him, but Ranger was as stubborn as she was on her worst day, and he didn't give up.

Proving her point, he grimaced and shifted so his left hand was free, and reached out for her. She slid her hand into his and dropped both to rest on the console. Ranger squeezed her fingers. Steph fought down another roll of nausea and squeezed back.

"Are we far enough to call RangeMan?" she whispered. "I don't think I can drive any farther."

"Where?" He turned his head to look out the windshield, frowning a little when he saw the Delaware rolling by through the trees.

"Lambertville, or we were before we crossed the bridge." Steph closed her eyes again as the dizziness worsened. "I don't feel very good."

"Were you hit?"

Steph shook her head. "I don't think so, but I'm feeling weak and shaky. Maybe it's the adrenaline crash."

He was silent for a moment, no doubt concocting a multi-level plan that involved at least two of the RangeMan locations, a fleet of cars, several perfectly legal identities and exotic locations. Steph kept her head down, concentrating on keeping herself together and clinging to their one point of contact like a lifeline. She thought about seeing Ranger kneeling by the back tire and relived the fear when she realized that he had been seriously hurt.

"Call Bobby," Ranger said finally. "Can you…drive…farther?"

She bit her lip, then tried opening her eyes. This time the world decided to stay in one place, and Steph breathed a little easier. "I think so. Where are we going?"

"Paintball arcade," he said, reluctantly letting go of her hand. "Cousin…of Tank's. Probably closed…but we…can pull…around back."

"Okay." Summoning up her strength, Steph straightened cautiously. The engine started right off the bat, and she put it into gear. Backing out of the parking spot went well, and she inched forward until she reached the entrance to the park. "Where am I going out of here?"

"Right to bakery…turn right…four miles. Large sign." Ranger rested his head against the back of the seat. "Proud…of you."

A warm flush crept up her cheeks, and Steph ducked her face away from his gaze. "Other people would blame me for causing all of this in the first place."

"Other people…are idiots." When she whipped her head around to stare at him, Ranger gave her a faint smile. "Babe."

"One of these days, those other people are going to overhear you say that. _Then_ where will you be?"

The silence stretched out too long. Steph turned her attention back to the street, but couldn't help peeking at him from the corner of her eye. He didn't seem to notice, just kept watching the buildings go by in the historic downtown district of this town on the Pennsylvania side of the Delaware.

"And?' Steph asked finally, when he didn't make a comment.

Ranger turned his head slightly. "Can't do…much more than… a stern glance right now, Babe. Sorry."

"You could offer to shoot them," she said not sure why she was sounding out of sorts. _Maybe I'm missing the usual Morelli rant at top volume that's always the aftermath of one of these incidents._

"Maybe later." He didn't add anything else, and Steph's fingers started tapping against the curve of the steering wheel. Patience wasn't her strong suit, especially when she could feel her own strength draining away with each block they passed. The bakery came into view, a brown brick building with arched windows and racks of showcased bakery products front and center.

Steph made the right turn and drove carefully down the side street. According to the position of the sun, they were heading north again. Ranger shifted a time or two in his seat, but he didn't say anything and Steph coaxed a little more speed out of the Firebird.

When the paintball billboard finally emerged from the mature trees crowded around it, Steph couldn't decide if the garish colors and flashing lights reminded her more of Grandma Mazur or Sally Sweet. She blinked a little to erase the fluorescent after image and turned into the wide paved parking lot.

A darker shadow on the right side of the low reddish brown building proved to be the narrow alley steph hoped it would be. She drove under the overhanging branches cautiously, tensed to react when the inevitable errant trash can or piled garbage bags would block the way.

 _At least they would be there in Jersey…_

Evidently things were done differently in Pennsylvania. The alley was neat and clear, and the dumpster around the back corner wasn't even padlocked. An addition to the main building jutted out a short ways into the back, with a screened door entrance marked _Staff Only_. No cars sat back there, and there was no evidence that anyone was in the building either.

"Park here," said Ranger, shifting again in his seat. His left hand was once again on the injured shoulder, pressing against the torn flesh in an instinctive attempt to lessen the pain. His skin was even paler than before, and sweat beaded at his temple and ran down the side of his face.

Steph turned off the car and hit the button on her seat belt. "Where's your phone? I'm calling Bobby right now."

"Left leg…front pocket," he said, gritting his teeth as a spasm of pain passed through him. Her fingers shook as she slid her hand into the indicated pocket. Unfortunately it was one of those large pockets and the angle of his leg made it awkward getting her hand into it to grab hold of anything.

Her fingers brushed against him. "Sorry."

"I'm…not," he said as a breath that might have been a laugh escaped him. "Wish I…could help."

"How can you be thinking of something like that now?" Steph felt the hard edge of the phone and slid it free. "You've been shot!"

"Not dead." Ranger blew out a breath. "Password…your birthday."

"That's pretty lame for a security specialist," she said, punching the numbers into the phone. It faded to black, then lit up with the home screen and she caught her breath. " _This_ is your idea of a home screen?"

"Good reminder."

Even though her head told her it was a bad idea, Steph couldn't stop herself from facing him and asking the question her heart needed to know the answer to. "Reminder of what?"

Ranger studied her for a second, then inhaled sharply. His eyes rolled up in his head and Steph froze for one heart-stopping moment. Then she was fumbling at the phone, hitting the phone icon and scrolling through the contacts for the RangeMan Control Room and cursing herself for not having memorized the number by now.

"RangeMan. This is—"

"Bobby! I need to talk to Bobby right now!" Steph caught herself before she started crying. Ranger needed her, damn it.

"Who is—"

"Please! Put Bobby on! I can't—" A sob bubbled up and she swallowed hard, pushing the heel of her hand against her chest to keep it down. "Please, hurry. I don't know what to do. He's—"

"Steph?" Lester came on the line, and in the background she could hear a babble of voices erupting through the normally quiet control room. "Steph, honey. Where are you? The tracker in your purse is showing you across the Delaware in Brindle. Is that where you're at?"

She gulped. "I-I think so. We made it across the bridge, but then I was dizzy. We're at a paintball—"

"The arcade, right?" Lester's voice was muffled for a moment, as if he rested the phone against his shoulder. Then he came back. "I've got Bobby in the air. We assumed you'd be heading a little farther north, so he was skipping ahead of you. Are you hurt, Beautiful?"

"A little, but not as bad as Ranger." She touched his face and he stirred a little, murmuring something under his breath that she couldn't make out. "Les, there's so much blood. I don't know what to do."

Another pause. "Okay, I've got a line to the county sheriff. He's someone we've dealt with before, and he's a good guy. Listen to me carefully, Steph. They'll be coming in a few minutes, so you need to disarm Ranger. Do you know where he keeps his hold outs and his knife?"

"I think so." Her gaze fell on the .45 lying on the floor next to Ranger's boot. "Lester, what do I do with them?"

"Make sure the safeties are on and tuck them somewhere he either can't reach or can't see. Make sure you can get to them if you need to. The knife I would put under the back seat, out of his reach. Can you do that?"

Steph set the phone on the console and carefully picked up the .45. She found the knife in a sheath inside his boot, but the back holster for other hold out gun was empty. She put the weapons under her seat, shoving them far enough back that they wouldn't be easily reached by either of them.

"Les? I can't find his other gun."

When Lester was silent for a moment and didn't immediately respond with a lewd comment, Steph's fear increased. Lester could joke in the middle of a bar brawl during a take down after being thrown over the bar.

Or in one case, _through_ the bar.

"That's okay—Zero said the cops found a .357 in Vinnie's back lot that matches Ranger's. Eddie vouched that it was there when he cleared the lot." Lester paused. "All right, we have Tank's cousin on the phone. He should be coming out the back door in the next few seconds."

The screen door on the back addition swung open slowly and a man who was unmistakably related to Tank came out. He wore a white t-shirt and grey sweats with no shoes, and he held a phone to his ear as he raised his free hand to show Steph he had no weapon.

"I see him," she said to Lester. "What's his name?"

This time Lester did laugh, and the soft sound made Steph feel better. "If you value your life, call him Mo."

"And if I don't?"

"I still value mine." Lester sobered. "I'll stay on the line, Beautiful. It's going to get busy in a hurry. Bobby will be there in about ten minutes, so don't answer any questions from the sheriff or the medical people until he does. Just keep it simple. Ranger is a security expert protecting you, there was an attempt on your life and he helped you escape. Okay?"

"Okay." Steph watched as Mo walked slowly down the steps and approached the car on the driver's side. He said something to the person on the other end of his phone and switched it off, shoving it into his pocket as he crouched by the door. He gave her a smile that was every bit as brilliant as Tank's when he was in a good mood and made a circular motion with his hand.

Obediently, she slid the window down. "Hi."

"You Stephanie? My name's Mo." He glanced past her to Ranger as a distant siren grew louder. "Shit. Begging your pardon. Don't you worry none, Stephanie. It'll turn out okay."

The siren was joined by others coming from other directions, and Mo grimaced. "Damn fools. Guess they don't realize there ain't no need for comin' in hot like that. You got his weapons secured?."

Her heart rate sped up as tires screeched on pavement on the main road. "Yes. The .45 and knife are under my seat. They'll be careful, right? They won't hurt him?"

"Not while I'm here." Mo reached through the window and popped the door locks. He fished both weapons out and slid them into his sweats just as a dark brown county sheriff SUV came around the corner, light bar going on full and the siren blaring.

Straightening to his full height, Tank's cousin crossed his arms over his very large chest and dropped his chin, staring silently at the older man behind the wheel. Steph could only guess at the history between the two men, but it evidently weighed heavily in Mo's favor because the officer snapped off the emergency lights and spoke a brief word into the radio mike clipped to his shoulder.

The other sirens faded a few moments later, and in the sudden quiet Steph heard the crunch of more tires in the front parking lot. Her heart beat faster and she switched the phone to her left ear and reached for Ranger with her right hand. Lester hadn't said anything more, but the connection was still open. As she listened to the voices of the Merry Men mobilizing resources to deal with the threat to her and Ranger's injuries, the sound reassured her that she wasn't out here alone. At least, not anymore.

"Ma'am?" The officer paused halfway between his SUV and the Firebird. "I'm Deputy Granger with the Windsor County Sheriff's Department. Are you hurt?"

Steph locked gazes with Mo and waited until she saw him give a tiny nod. "Yes. I hurt myself when we were trying to escape the gunmen. My bodyguard was shot and he's lost a lot of blood."

"Good girl," said Lester in her ear, and she felt a little bit better at passing the first hurdle.

Deputy Granger edged a little closer, his hand still on his holstered gun. "The ambulance crew will be here soon. Can you get out of the car?"

"I—"

Mo stepped between them, his large body blocking Steph's view of Deputy Granger. She turned her head towards Ranger and found his eyes open but unfocused. Before she could think about the wisdom of moving, she leaned over him so her words wouldn't be overheard.

"Ranger, the sheriff is here. We're going to get you to a hospital."

His eyelids dropped, and for a brief moment of panic, Steph thought she'd lost him. Then a muscle in his cheek jumped and he forced his eyes open. Ranger looked straight at her, and Steph's breath clogged in her throat at the unshielded emotions revealed in those dark eyes.

"Don't…stay. Go."

He faded out again, just as the door on his side of the car was wrenched open. A sandy-haired man who could've passed as a Merry Man, dressed in a dark blue uniform with a medic's patch on his sleeve, crowded into the opening. His large hands stabilized Ranger as he started a rapid check of the long list of injuries. He rattled the medical terms off to a petite blonde woman crouched behind him, her pen scribbling furiously on her notepad.

Steph snatched her hand away from Ranger's, worried that she would be in the way, and his eyes opened just as her own door was opened.

"Ma'am, can you get out of the—"

Ranger threw an elbow into the medic, shoving him back against the door frame. As he bounced off, Ranger lunged across the console and wrapped his arms around Steph, pulling her back into the car. His breath was ragged in her ear, painful and short, and he released one hand to fumble through the console.

"Stay back," he growled, kicking out so the medic went flying into his partner and sprawled on the ground in a tangle of legs and arms.

"Ranger—" Steph never got the rest of the sentence out. He collapsed against her with frightening suddenness, his greater weight pushing her down. Warm liquid dripped onto her arm and she twisted to see dark red blood running across her skin.

Everything jumped into fast forward, scrambling through a confusing mix of people shouting orders she couldn't understand and sirens hammering at her ears. Someone pulled her out of the car, away from Ranger, and she found herself enveloped in Mo's big arms near Deputy Granger's SUV as medical personnel swarmed the Firebird.

Steph gasped for breath, hyperventilating as she tried to keep up with the whirl of activity. Mo carried her a little farther back and someone held an oxygen mask up to her nose and mouth. The sounds faded around her as Steph concentrated on the cool air rushing through the mask, gulping it in as her vision faded to dark around the edges.

Her awareness came back with maddening slowness. Steph blinked, conscious of how heavy her eyelids felt, and wondered why she hadn't started shaking from the adrenaline crash yet. She _always_ shook before she zonked out from exhaustion.

Then the roaring in her ears grew louder and Mo turned her towards the building, blocking out the sunlight. Her ears popped and the roaring became the heavy thud of a helicopter's rotors; dust kicked up from the downdraft peppered the brown siding like the gunfire against the skin of the Firebird.

 _Bullets punching through Ranger, scattering blood against the rear window. His blood…just like the spatters she found on the wall in her apartment, missed when the cleaners had gone through after Scrog. Ranger…dying on her floor and no one was coming to help—_

Steph shuddered violently as tears blurred her vision. She was caught in that horrible moment, not nearly long enough ago, when she thought she would never see Ranger's eyes lighten as he smiled that private smile just for her, the one that seemed like he was sharing a joke just between the two of them. The shudders grew until she was trembling from head to foot; the oxygen mask fell out of her hand as she wrapped her arms around her and went down on her knees.

 _Babe._

Blindly, she turned her head, scrubbing at her eyes with the back of her hand. Her nose was stuffed up, too, and she was fairly certain her skin had already turned blotchy. But none of that mattered. The only thing she cared about was finding the source of that voice in her head.

Getting up turned out to be harder than Steph thought. She tried to get her feet under her, only to go down again when they inexplicably tangled. Rough wood scraped against her raw hands as she steadied herself against the building, but the pain just served to clear her head and her vision until she could see the activity going on around her.

Mo stood a little behind her and to the right, still shielding her from the majority of the eyes that had descended on the quiet lot. The petite medic stood directly in front of Steph, her gloved hands on her hips as her mouth straightened into a grim, determined line. Past her, a huddle of deputies and medics worked on the far side of the Firebird.

Working on Ranger.

Her leg and hip were on fire, her hands were numb and her head felt like it was going to explode, but Steph grabbed onto Mo's arm and took a step towards Ranger. He moved with her, but Steph didn't look away from her goal. Step by painful step, her lungs burning and every inch of her body hurting, she made it around the front of the car and got her first good look at Ranger since she'd been removed from the driver's seat.

One of the medics handed off a spent unit of blood to a deputy, who took it in gloved hands and moved away. Steph's heart squeezed in her chest and her fingernails dug into Mo's bare arm. She didn't hear him swear, and didn't see him motion the blonde medic away as she stopped just short of the head of the gurney.

Two deputies crouched by Ranger's feet, not holding anything but rather watching him with a predatory steadiness that rang silent alarm bells in Steph's head. Other deputies held saline IV bags; the sandy-haired medic knelt next to Ranger's head and adjusted the hard plastic tubing taped to the corner of his mouth. His chest was bare, the t-shirt and cargoes cut away, and one medic each worked over his shoulder and his knee.

Steph's hand went to her mouth. It was a purely instinctive reaction, trying to keep the sobs that wanted to tear out of her throat safely inside. If she didn't cry, if she didn't break down again, then she could keep Ranger alive and with her. As long as she watched him, he wouldn't dare die on her.

Before she could elbow aside the men and women working on Ranger, Mo guided her to the Firebird's hood and handed Ranger's phone to her. The screen had dark red streaks across it, but she wasn't sure if they were his or hers. The screen showed the connection to RangeMan still open, and Steph put it up to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Steph." Lester's voice sounded more cheerful than the situation seemed to warrant. Her eyes stayed on Ranger, watching. "We've got things set up. Bobby's onsite and we'll be transporting both of you to Penn Trauma. A team is on its way. They'll be staying with you and Ranger until we get everything sorted out."

"Okay," Steph whispered, hearing the words but not really putting any of it together. "Lula and Connie?"

The sounds on the other end were muffled for a moment, then Lester came back. "A little singed, but otherwise okay. Lula broke her ankle climbing over the rubble, but Tank's with her at St. Francis while she's getting fitted with a walking boot. Connie's okay but royally pissed. Word filtering in from the street is that her family isn't happy with the attack and they're meeting with the other families to address the situation."

" _Address the situation_ meaning _who to kill_." Steph lowered her voice, not wanting that little tidbit of information to be aired out in front of law enforcement officials she didn't know. Mo coughed loudly next to her, either to cover what she'd said or because he wasn't accustomed to dealing with organized crime syndicates.

"Pretty much," said Lester, still unnaturally cheerful.

She turned a little, still keeping Ranger within her field of vision. "How can you be so happy?"

"Because nobody has time for me to be moaning and pissing about the hand we have to play." Lester dropped the light tone, and Steph instantly wished he would bring it back. "Steph, it's been a little hairy up until now, but we made it this far. Tank and I are handling things here. You've got Bobby to rely on and Ranger will be up and giving orders before you know it. Just remember that he'll be a little under the weather for a while and cut him some slack, okay?"

Steph blew out a breath and nodded, forgetting that Lester couldn't see her. "I can try. I just want to see him open his eyes, Les. They have tubes and IVs and it's just like Scrog—"

"He bounced back from that and he'll do the same here," Lester said forcefully. "Don't lose hope. He needs to see your bright, shiny face when he wakes up, and he's going to need to lean on you, even if he doesn't want to. Can you be strong for Ranger?"

A warm hand settled on the back of her neck, and for a moment Steph lost the thread of conversation, shock jolting her brain as she thought that Ranger had miraculously gotten up from the stretcher. Then she twisted around and the smile faded as her brain processed the person standing behind her in flight suit with the helmet tucked under his arm.

"Bobby's here," she whispered, trying to hide her disappointment.

"Cool. Hand him the phone, willya?"

Wordlessly Steph held out Ranger's phone to the RangeMan medic. He took it without hesitation, placing his helmet on the hood of the car and gathering her close with his free arm as he listened to Lester on the other end. It was a troubling display of comfort that raised a lot of doubts in her mind, but Bobby gave her a squeeze as he finished up the conversation with a few terse words and thumbed the phone off.

"Steph, I'm going to get you kitted up and settled before we bundle Ranger in. Did Wanda check you over already?"

The Firebird creaked a little as Mo settled his bulk next to Steph. "Yeah, she did. Abrasions that'll need to be debrided and cleaned, as well as shock. She'd be on a stretcher next to Ranger if she wasn't so stubborn."

"Hey!" Steph protested, well aware when she was being insulted.

Bobby just laughed and slipped Ranger's phone into a pocket on his flight suit. "That's why we love you so much, honey. Tell you what—when this is all over, we'll come back here for some fun and clue ol' Mo into the legend that is the Bombshell Bounty Hunter."

"I read the paper," said Mo, "no need to be shoveling any of your bull in my direction."

Steph was silent, not quite able to summon up the energy for her usual protest about exactly whose fault most of her misadventures were. Her gaze was back on Ranger, noticing the new white bandage on his right shoulder and the dark red stain spreading inexorably in its center.

Fingers slid under her chin, and Bobby gently turned her head to look at him. "Steph, honey, let's get going. The sooner you're settled, the sooner we can get him on the bird and in the air. All right?"

Mutely she nodded, even as her eyes filled with more tears. Bobby smiled at her, his brown eyes warm with a reassurance she desperately needed. He scooped up his helmet and slung his free arm around her shoulders, guiding her past Deputy Granger's SUV towards the front of the building. She followed docilely, at least until she reached the SUV. Then she turned back to look at Tank's cousin.

"Mo?" she said hesitantly. "Thank you."

He flipped his hand at her. "You go on. Anybody would do as much."

Still Steph hesitated, torn between Bobby's urging and the strong desire to express her gratitude better. But then she saw the medics and firefighters around Ranger's stretcher straighten and she knew there was little time left to dither.

Bobby kept his arm around her as they cleared the alleyway between the building and the trees, and when she saw the air medical transport helicopter waiting in the front lot, Steph was very glad of the extra support.

The rear of the dark blue chopper was pointed towards them, and beneath the high set tail rotor the two clamshell doors stood open. The left side of the back bay had a flat board on it with racks of medical equipment hung above it; to the right were two high back chairs on what looked like roller tracks.

A man in a flight suit and helmet came around the front nose of the chopper. "We almost ready to get this show on the road?" he asked Bobby.

"Just about. Steph, this is Rudy. He'll be flying the helicopter today."

Rudy held out his hand to her. "Miss Plum. I've heard plenty of stories about you. Bobby usually has at least two new ones every time we have our monthly meetings."

"The funeral home wasn't my fault," she said automatically, and winced. Even after the other disasters that had followed in her continuing career as a bounty hunter, it was always the damn funeral home that everyone went back to.

 _Can't anyone ever talk about Sally Sweet's massacre of a street gang? Why don't they ever mention that one?_

Rudy grinned as she slid her hand into his. "I wasn't thinking of the funeral home. I liked the one about the spiders in your Jeep. That and the dangling off the bridge. I'm just glad we haven't met before this with all of the adventures you've had."

There wasn't much she could say to that; agreeing sounded rude, even if the sentiment was a good one. So Steph retrieved her hand from the pilot and let Bobby guide her to the side door. He boosted her up and gave her a flight helmet, then directed her to the far rear-facing seat directly behind the pilot. Once she was settled into the soft, form-fitting cushion, he belted her in and showed her how to release the restraints in an emergency.

Steph had barely refastened the belts across her front when Rudy climbed into the cockpit and the engines hummed to life. Bobby gave her the thumbs up sign and donned his own helmet, bringing the mike down in front of his mouth so he could talk to both the pilot and the medical personnel who would be riding with them.

She shrank back in her seat, moving her legs so they were tight against the outer wall of the chopper. The beat of the engines thrummed through the metal into her bones until her teeth rattled with the force of it. The vibration didn't do much for her aching head, but she clenched her fingers around the seat cushion and watched through the open rear doors as the medics and firefighters rounded the corner of the building with Ranger. They moved at a fast clip, tugging the gurney across the uneven ground towards the helicopter.

Bobby appeared at the back doors and pulled the board out of the bay. Moving like a well-practiced team, the medics and firefighters guided the gurney onto the strip, collapsed the wheels and rolled the entire assembly into the bay. The flight nurse followed it in, taking her position in the rear most side chair and locking the doors as the firefighters outside shut them tight.

A thin man climbed in the side door, his attention reserved solely for Ranger and the machines blinking to life in the racks above his prone body. The name patch on his flight suit read KEARNEY and a stethoscope hung folded around his neck. The flight nurse behind him shoved the portable machines piled between Ranger's legs to empty spaces in the racks, cursing under her breath when a few refused to fit right away.

Bobby followed the medic in, pulling the door shut behind him and latching it. He gave Steph an encouraging smile, one she tried to return without much success, and he removed a tablet from under his seat and brought it to life. As the engines whined to a higher pitch and the rotors swept through the air directly above them, Steph settled into her chair and watched numbly as the medics and Bobby ran through their flight checklist.

Too soon, they were finished and she had nothing else to do but stare at Ranger's unmoving form in front of her and pray silently that the jagged lines on the heart monitor would continue to flow across the screen, and that the beep from the pulse monitor would continue without hesitation for the entire flight.

Then the engines roared louder and the helicopter lifted into the air, circling the arcade once before turning south and west, towards Philadelphia and the trauma center.


	4. Chapter 4

_All characters belong to Janet Evanovich. Completely Babe. Rated M for mature content, adult situations and language. Mistakes, illogical circumstances and unrepentant romantic encounters of the Ranger kind are entirely my fault. Places, names and procedures have been altered to fit the story. I am neither a medical or law enforcement professional, so all mistakes are mine. My deepest thanks to everyone who has read this story and those who have taken the time to review._

Steph dug her fingers into the seat cushion as the helicopter circled the arcade building once before pointing its nose towards the south. She tried to breathe deeper to avoid hyperventilating, but her primal fear of flying wasn't any better with rotor aircraft than it was with jets. Coupling that with the adrenaline crash she'd been fighting off for the past hour, and Steph was left deciding whether to quietly faint or continue in denial only to have a much louder meltdown that would involved sedatives and perhaps a padded room when they reached the trauma center.

Before she could decide, Bobby shifted in his seat and tilted the tablet so she could see it. "Wanna see how we monitor the patient's vitals in flight?"

Even as he explained the app and how it communicated with the onboard equipment, Steph noticed that Bobby wasn't saying a whole lot about Ranger's current condition. She studied his face as he explained the numbers and lines on the graph, and couldn't detect any sign of worry, either in his eyes or around his mouth. While Bobby could be as good as Ranger in disguising his emotions, he seemed to be openly cheerful in a way that didn't _seem_ faked or practiced.

Something clamped onto her left index finger and Steph blinked at the cuff. "What's this?"

"Making sure I don't get in trouble," said Bobby as he watched the readout on the machine he balanced on his knees. "You're being transported as an ambulatory medical patient. If I don't do my job in monitoring you, the next time I try to hitch a ride with these guys they're going to make me sit on the front bumper."

"Skids," said the medic in the front seat. He didn't take his eyes off Ranger but his grin flashed white teeth. "In a high wind. During winter."

Bobby shuddered in mock horror. "See, Bomber? So just to make sure I stay in their good graces, do me a solid and let me get these done."

Put that way and paired with the sad puppy eyes that he must have learned from Lester, Steph gave in as gracefully as possible. She knew the medic and flight nurse were watching her, weighing her relation to Ranger and Bobby and RangeMan. So Steph forced a smile and let Bobby do what he needed, but all the time she was wishing that she could be the one on the stretcher, and that it was Ranger watching over.

All she needed was for Ranger to open his eyes just once, to let her know he was still fighting to come back to her…

Steph shifted in her seat, too well aware that she had no right to believe that Ranger would be thinking of her after being critically injured. More than once he'd said he loved her, but there were all kinds of love—and only one Ranger. It was more likely that he would come back because his men needed him, and because he wasn't the type to give up.

The _beep_ of the heart monitor in the rack above the gurney sped up and both medic and flight nurse were instantly on the alert. Ranger stirred, his head moving restlessly as much as the neck collar allowed, muttering under his breath. Bobby slid off his seat, kneeling next to the stretcher as his hand rested on Ranger's shoulder and he whispered in his ear.

Ranger's agitation increased. He said something Steph didn't quite catch, and Bobby answered him in a little louder voice. Then Ranger shifted and the rails under the stretcher rattled.

"What's going on?" Steph asked.

She bit her lip as soon as she said it, well aware that she shouldn't distract the medical personnel from their jobs. Ranger's shoulders and back tensed and the entire stretcher apparatus jumped; the flight nurse unbelted as the medic reached into an overhead bin and pulled out a small zippered pouch.

Bobby glanced at the pouch. "Too risky. A sedative on top of hypovolemic shock is going to give him more problems than even he can handle."

"I'd rather not crash into a farm field between here and Penn Trauma," the medic shot back. He put the pouch back in the compartment. "You have a better idea?"

"I hope so." Bobby glanced at Steph. "Honey, you don't have to if you don't want to—"

"Of course I want to."

Unbuckling her restraints, Steph took off her helmet and stuffed it into the narrow bit of legroom between her seat and the stretcher. Her hip and side throbbed as she braced herself on the edge of the seat and lowered herself to the floor beside Bobby.

"What do you want me to do?" she asked.

Gently, he took her hand and placed it on Ranger's left shoulder. "Keep it there. Talk to him, and if you can think of anything that would help him recognize that it's you, use it. Hopefully you can reach him, because the more he thrashes around, the more likely he's going to tear something important inside where we can't get at it to fix it."

Steph closed her eyes as the warmth of Ranger's skin soaked into her injured hand. The connection helped ease some of her exhaustion, and erase her fear and panic. She leaned on the metal framework for a moment to find a more comfortable position, and Bobby muttered an apology as he scrambled up and took her vacated seat.

"Talk to him, Bomber. Let him know that you're right with him and that everything is under control."

Careful not to disturb the breathing tube, Steph rested her forehead in the hollow of his shoulder, turning a little so her breath would feather against his neck right below his ear.

"Carlos," she said softly, breathing out to punctuate each word, "it's me—Steph. We're safe and I'm right here. I won't leave you."

Something touched her forehead and Steph blinked to focus her eyes. They widened a little when she realized that he'd turned towards her. A frown line deepened between his closed eyes and the stretcher shook again.

"Sshh, Carlos. Stay still. Can you do that for me? Remember you said I could drive every now and then? I want to drive but you must stay very, very still."

Steph slid her fingers through his hair, not really paying attention to what she was saying. All that mattered was that his body relaxed and the frown faded. Her own breath came a little easier, even though she was bent over the stretcher at an uncomfortable height and her new position meant she could feel every little vibration running through the helicopter.

The aircraft banked suddenly and she swallowed hard. The muscles under her tightened again and Steph pressed a kiss to where his shoulder and neck met.

"It's okay. We're in a chopper with Bobby and the pilot just made a turn. I guess you can add helicopters to the list of things I don't enjoy riding."

The flight nurse coughed and Steph raised her head. The woman winked at her with a broad, barely contained grin as she raised the blanket covering Ranger's arm to check the oximetry cuff. His hand was wrapped around the steel framework, the fingers relaxed and loose. A wide plastic band circled his wrist, and dropped down to disappear in the slot between the cushion and the outer steel rods.

It took Steph a moment to process what she was seeing, and when she did, she turned her head away from the flight nurse and medic and shot Bobby a frantic, quizzical glance. Fortunately, his Bombshell ESP seemed to be working.

The RangeMan medic shrugged. "Ranger wasn't convinced you were safe. It took four firefighters and two deputies to get him on the stretcher."

"And I thought I'd seen it all," said the medic. He adjusted the machine holding the IV solutions dripping into Ranger's vein. "Whoever he is, he was highly motivated to make sure you were okay."

This time Steph didn't blush when the flight nurse grinned in her direction again. She readjusted her position, wincing a little when the sore and bruised muscles in her right hip pulled. The pain was growing again, but she wasn't going to move. Not as long as Ranger needed her to be right where she was.

Denial was a skill, one that Steph relied on both personally and professionally. It carried her through a marriage and divorce with Dickie Orr, losing a job and most of the mishaps that had occurred since becoming a fugitive apprehension agent. The only times it failed her was when Ranger was injured while protecting her.

Her fingers sifted through Ranger's hair again, tracing the curve of his ear and down to his strong jaw. His body relaxed and the heart monitor slowed back to a regular pace. Steph listened to it and her eyes grew heavier. A yawn slipped past her control, cracking her jaw as it escaped.

Bobby tapped her shoulder. "Why don't you rest your head on the cushion?"

Suspicious, Steph narrowed her eyes at him, not sure if his suggestion was completely legit. Bobby wisely spread his arms so she could see he wasn't hiding a syringe anywhere, and when she searched his face again for signs of sincerity, he held up two fingers together and mouthed _scout's honor_.

"Don't give me that, Robert Brown," she said as she shifted her weight a little more to left side. "I know you and Lester were responsible for the Girl Scout cookies. And don't think there isn't payback coming for stacking them in the break room in full view of the cameras while Ranger was in the office all day."

This time both the medic and the flight nurse were grinning, and Steph managed a smile of her own as she tried to pick a spot where she could rest her head without disturbing Ranger too much. She finally picked out a tiny sliver of the cushion right next to his shoulder, resting most of her head on her upper left arm and straightening that out so it rest alongside his. Her fingertips were just below his elbow; at first she worried about disturbing him, but finally Steph tucked them under his arm and called it good.

This position was even less comfortable. Injured muscles and the abrasions protested, but not loudly enough that she couldn't ignore them in favor of the calm that washed through her when she was in contact with Ranger. Steph adjusted her head so she was staring directly at the side of his head, and she rested the back of her right hand against his cheek.

 _I love you, Ranger. I can't say it aloud because I don't want to scare you away, but I can admit it to myself. I love you and I can't imagine a life without you in it. Please just come back to me this time._

 _Please._

It was probably her imagination, but Steph could have sworn that Ranger shifted closer to her. The faint scent of Bvlgari tickled her nose as Steph took in a deep breath. That familiar smell, coupled with his warmth, lulled her deeper into relaxation until she tipped over the edge and slid down into sleep.

 _She was floating through the air, adrift on a warm summer breeze. Strong sunlight shone on her upturned face and chased away the chill deep in her body. A feather tickled her nose and she heard Ranger laugh, the deep, carefree sound that she heard too rarely but always wanted to hear again. Steph sighed happily, willing to float on the wind forever, dancing through the air and basking under a gentle sun with Ranger._

A strident voice cut through the peaceful calm, yelling words she couldn't understand. Steph blinked and the dream was gone, replaced by a white-tiled room with a single light overhead, blue curtain walls and enough machines blinking, beeping and whirring that she had no problem whatsoever in recognizing where she was.

Her head thumped back into the pillow and Steph stared at the ceiling panels as she took stock. No IV lines ran into her hands, wrists or elbows; no monitor leads stuck to her skin. In fact, the only monitoring equipment she was hooked up to was a finger cuff and the blood pressure cuff. She straightened her legs, wincing at the protest of sore muscles, and felt the telltale scratch of the hospital blanket against bare skin. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that her blood-soaked and torn shirt, jeans and shoes were gone, and they'd been replaced by the hated thin cotton gown that opened in the back.

A loud hum signaled the next scheduled reading of her blood pressure. Knowing this drill better than most, Steph laid as still as possible and breathed deep, thinking calming thoughts as she waited for the machine to finish.

 _In…out. In…out. In…_

A shadow detached from the corner, rising from the molded plastic chair tucked underneath the hand sanitizer. It rose with graceful swiftness and Steph yelped before she could stop herself, grabbing onto the rails of the bed and nearly climbing over them in reflex.

Hector stepped into the dim light, his hands held up to show her he didn't have any of his many weapons out. Steph froze until her brain caught up with her racing heart, then sagged against the railing just as the blood pressure alarm went off on her monitor.

"Damn it," she muttered as a shadow passed behind the front curtain and a short, brown-haired woman with a stethoscope folded around her neck hurried in.

"Glad to see you awake, Mrs. Arenas. My name is Kallie. How are you feeling?" Deftly she silenced the alarm and punched a reset code into the machine. It chirped and then obediently started another reading cycle. "Would you like your bodyguard to wait outside while the doctor examines you?"

"Uh—" She glanced at Hector and caught the slight shake of his head. "No, that's okay. He can stay."

Kallie's lips pursed a little as she looked between the still-silent Hector and Steph. "Mrs. Arenas, you have the right to privacy, even from your own employees. You'd be perfectly safe—"

"No." Hector didn't move, but something in his posture shifted from relaxed to alert. "Stay here. No leave alone."

"But—" The machine beeped as it finished the reading and Kallie checked the numbers. "I'll send Dr. Garcia in to see you. We're in the process of pulling up your medical records so we can get the tests started."

Steph hitched herself a little more upright, hissing when the action reminded her of the abrasions on her hands. Her whole right side hurt with a burning pain that was ten times worse than it had been. Hector was by her side in an instant, sliding his arm around her for support until the pain faded.

It eventually did, but in its place there was exhaustion, the kind she felt only when she was very sick or injured far worse than she wanted to be. Hector gently eased her back onto the pillow, and he fitted a second one behind her so she wouldn't have to strain her neck to see people. That little consideration made her feel a little more in control, and when Hector didn't move away, Steph didn't feel quite so alone, either.

Wisely the nurse stayed at the foot of the bed. "I can't get you anything for the pain until the doctor clears you. He's ordered a blood panel and a CT first, then he'll decide what needs immediate treating and what comes second."

The best that Steph could muster was a weak smile at the idea of being poked and prodded, but she'd been in the ER rooms around Trenton proper enough times to recognize that this wasn't one of them. So at least the people doing the poking wouldn't be yapping about it to the Burg grapevine as soon as they left the room, privacy laws be damned.

"Don't worry, Mrs. Arenas. We'll get things squared away and get you settled as soon as possible." Kallie patted her foot. "Everything will be just fine."

Steph could only nod, waiting until the nurse closed the curtain behind her and walked away. As soon as the sound of the footsteps faded, she glanced at Hector with the questions she didn't know how to ask in her eyes.

Number one was _who the hell was Mrs. Arenas_?

The former gang member dug into his RangeMan windbreaker and pulled out a familiar object. Steph held out both hands, trembling a little in her eagerness to grab hold of the smart phone she hadn't seen since Bobby slid it into the pocket of his flight suit. Gone were the questions about her new identity. That didn't matter as much to her as having a concrete link to Ranger.

Someone had cleaned the blood and dirt off the case so that it looked like new. Steph tapped the screen and entered the password, wondering what had ever possessed Ranger to use her birthday. The picture on the home screen still made her stomach flutter, mostly because she hadn't remembered when he took it Friday night. The woman was undeniably her; Steph had photos from inside the club that had been helpfully shared by others on the team. But somehow he'd captured her in the middle of a dance move that made her look like she was spreading her arms wide to take flight.

 _Almost as if I could fly, like nothing could keep me earthbound_.

Steph swallowed hard and searched for the message icon, her heart fluttering a little at the red-encased number eleven marking it. The app took forever to open, and she clutched the phone a little tighter when footsteps went by on the other side the curtain. She didn't know how much time she would have before they were interrupted, and she needed to find out more about Ranger's condition.

The messages were all from Bobby, and she checked the analog clock on the wall against the time stamps on the messages, realizing that he had started sending the information _to her_ , shortly after they must have wheeled Ranger into the ER.

Her heart squeezed hard at some of the reports; no doubt in the interests of self-preservation if she ever found out he'd lied, Bobby was putting in a lot of information and not sugar coating any of it. His messages were one right after another, adding test results or explaining numbers from a previous test.

"Sir! You can't go back there! _Sir!_ "

A flurry of activity outside the curtains jerked Steph away from the screen. Hector took the phone away from her, stowing it in a pocket with a nod that told her it would be brought back out as soon as they had more time away from prying eyes. A very large shadow was backlit against the curtain and Hector placed himself in front of her, his hand going to his back and drawing a thin stiletto knife.

A large hand grasped the edge of the curtain and drew it back to reveal Ram in his black RangeMan uniform with a windbreaker over it. His hazel eyes landed on Hector standing ready and the hand went up automatically.

"It's just me. I'm partnering with you while Bobby, Hal and Junior are upstairs."

Slowly, Hector showed him the knife before sheathing it again—a silent warning of what might have happened. Kallie caught up with Ram and planted herself directly in front of him. The difference in height provoked a giggle from Steph that she quickly stifled, but it didn't faze the nurse at all. She planted her fists on her hips and glared up at the Merry Man who specialized in long range sniping.

"This is a restricted area," she snapped. "If you have not been cleared by the front desk and are wearing a visitor badge, you are required to stay in the waiting room."

Ram folded his arms over his massive chest and didn't even break a smile. "I'm Mrs. Arenas's other bodyguard. Feel free to go get one of those badges and slap it on me, because I'm not moving."

Kallie leaned forward, just enough to rise from flat-footed to the balls of her feet. "I can have you removed."

"Feel free to try," said Ram, not quite containing the amusement rumbling underneath the words.

For a moment, the nurse didn't answer. Then she pointed her finger at him. "You. Stay. Put."

Steph blinked and the nurse was gone, the stirring of the curtain behind her the only evidence that she had even moved. The three of them stared at each other, not quite daring to comment, and then Kallie was back, her expression thunderous and a bright yellow sticker crumpled in her clenched fingers.

Before Ram could react, the nurse slapped the sticker on his backside, putting enough force behind it that he rocked forward. Then she pushed past him, checking on the equipment and Steph's vital signs, and ignoring both men as if they weren't even in the room.

"Mrs. Arenas, do you have any questions before Dr. Garcia comes in?" Kallie kept her back turned to the Merry Men, an unwise decision if either of them decided she was a threat, but then Steph watched as the nurse raised both eyebrows in a questioning look. The meaning hit her a brief second later and she shook her head quickly.

 _No, I don't want them removed. I want you to leave so I can find out how Ranger is._ Where _Ranger is. And how I can get to him as quickly as possible._

"Just hurry," she whispered, the words catching a little bit as her imagination pictured Ranger in an operating room. Her memory supplied the blood from when he was shot in her apartment and her heart twisted painfully.

The monitor beeped and the nurse glanced at it. "Mrs. Arenas, you'll need to stay calm. I'll get Dr. Garcia now. He was waiting on a phone call before he came in, but he should have received it by now."

With a last baleful glare at Ram as she went past, Kallie went out. Ram leaned into the curtain just enough to watch her until she was out of earshot before nodding to Hector. The phone was produced again and just as Steph reached for it, the message alert buzzed quietly.

Her fingers shook harder this time, with trembling that she couldn't stop. Steph shuddered and Hector was there again, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and holding her close. Biting her lip, Steph pulled up the messages and read the latest one.

"He's out of surgery and stable," she said before tears blurred the screen. Swiping at them with the back of her hand, Steph sniffed and kept reading. "Bobby says he'll be in recovery for a couple hours and then transferred to ICU."

"Sounds about right." Ram checked the room outside. "Bobby said to tell you that if the ER admits you, he's arranged to have you and Ranger in the same area to make guarding both of you easier. If you're not admitted, you'll stay in one of the VIP suites until Ranger is stable enough to go to a general surgery floor. Then he'll be moved up there as well."

"Sounds like a—"

He held up a hand and Steph stopped, her ears straining to hear what had alerted him. Hector hid the phone under the windbreaker, and eased towards the head of the bed where Steph couldn't see him as easily but could definitely feel his presence.

Voices approached the curtain. Ram stepped to the side to make room as the edge billowed and a younger man with dark hair and glasses strode in.

"Mrs. Arenas, I'm Doctor Garcia and I'll be—"

He slowed to a stop as he glanced up from his tablet and his eyes took in not only Steph but Hector as well. To his credit, he didn't pale or drop the electronics, even though Steph was pretty sure that Hector was doing everything possible to be intimidating. If it sped things up, she was wholeheartedly in favor of it.

"Um, I will be your doctor today," Garcia finished with considerably less energy. He darted a glance at Ram, standing in the standard RangeMan pose of arms folded over the chest. "Um, Mrs. Arenas, we have very good security here. If your associates would like to—"

"Stay right here and be with Mrs. Arenas at all times," said Ram, his words underscored by the rumble that was no longer friendly. "We take our job very seriously, doctor, and that means you'll have to work around us."

Hector shifted behind her and Steph guessed he was glowering at Dr. Garcia as well. If it had been any where other than an ER, he would be flipping one of his knives in the air and catching it, just to let it known that he was armed and willing to use the blades.

"I feel much safer with them," she said when the doctor still kept looking from Ram to Hector and back again. "As long as there is no threat to my safety, everything will be fine."

His eyes still bounced around the bay, but neither Merry Man moved. Finally the doctor took a deep breath and moved to her bedside, prudently choosing the one that Hector wasn't on. Then Dr. Garcia put Steph through her paces, from 'breathe deep' to 'does this hurt'. Since the last one was accompanied by a sharp prod over the point of her sore hip, her answer came out a little strangled and definitely in the affirmative. The doctor abruptly took his hands away and fell back a step, burying his head in the tablet and pretending to be focused on jotting down his notes.

Hector moved within range of Steph's peripheral vision, proving that he had been the source of Dr. Garcia's sudden absorption in the tablet. The glower on the former gang member's face was truly formidable and about two tiny baby steps from homicidal. Steph touched his hand clenched around her bedrail and he glanced down at her for a long moment, his glittering black eyes unreadable. Then his fingers relaxed and he let go of the bed, dropping his hand to his side.

Ram shifted in his position by the outer curtain, drifting a little to his left so he was closer to Hector than the entrance. He did it so smoothly that Steph wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't moved while she was looking at Hector. A silent communication passed between them, and she nodded, well aware that with Ranger injured and unknown people after her, it wasn't too far fetched that Hector would be more volatile than usual.

"Mrs. Arenas, I understand your husband was brought in at the same time," Dr. Garcia said as he finished up his notes. He seemed to relax a little when he saw Hector backing off, but he kept a wary eye on him the entire time, not quite trusting. "You were very lucky not to be injured as seriously as he was. I'm going to order blood tests, x-rays and a CT scan to make sure we aren't missing anything. Once the bloodwork gets back, I'll be better able to prescribe pain medication and we'll get your obvious injuries taken care of as well. Any questions about how we're proceeding?"

"How seriously injured was R—my husband?" Steph asked, trying to cover her mistake.

Dr. Garcia frowned, shooting a cautious glance at both Ram and Hector. "I wasn't involved with his care when he came in, so I'm not qualified to give you a definitive answer. But I understand he was stable when they transferred him to recovery."

"Oh, okay." Steph took a deep breath, blowing it out in a huff and trying a smile. "I'd like to get things taken care of here, so I can be with him."

"I'll have Kallie expedite the tests as much as possible." Dr. Garcia drifted towards the curtain, obviously not wanting to overstay his welcome. "Anything else, Mrs. Arenas?"

Steph shook her head. "No, thank you."

Before the last word had the chance to even echo off the tile floor, Dr. Garcia was gone. Steph blinked a couple of times, surprised that he could move that fast, but a glance at Ram showed the Merry Man fighting unsuccessfully against a grin. Hector said something in Spanish and Ram coughed into his fist, trying to disguise his laugh.

The phone made a reappearance and Steph settled into the bed as best she could with a rapidly numbing backside, scrolling through the messages again so she could understand everything that was going on. She wasn't concerned about herself; other than the abrasions, she couldn't feel anything else off or wrong, so she assumed that the tests would be a mere formality and then she would be released to Bobby's care.

A different nurse came through the curtain on the opposite side of Ram, slipping between the wall and the edge. "I'm going to be taking you down to the CT scan and x-ray. Normally we would do the blood draw up here, but since you've had to wait so long, we'll stop at the oncology lab and have them do it."

Before Steph could do more than nod, the woman removed the cuff from her arm and the monitors turned off. She got behind the bed and released the brake with a loud _thump_ that rattled Steph's teeth, and not in a good way.

Hector grabbed the railing, the tendons in the back of his hand standing out in sharp relief as he threw his weight against the nurse's. Then Ram placed himself at the foot of the bed, blocking it with his considerable mass.

"No," said Hector, and then the bed suddenly accelerated forward, slamming into Ram with a force that Steph didn't think possible.

Ram went down, falling backwards into the curtains and ripping them off the overhead track. He hit the floor with a terrifying thud as the bed bumped over his legs and into the hallway.

And then all hell broke loose.


	5. Chapter 5

_All characters belong to Janet Evanovich. Completely Babe. Rated M for mature content, adult situations and language. Mistakes, illogical circumstances and unrepentant romantic encounters of the Ranger kind are entirely my fault. Places, names and procedures have been altered to fit the story. I am neither a medical or law enforcement professional, so all mistakes are mine. My deepest thanks to everyone who has read this story and those who have taken the time to review._

The bed veered, slamming into the opposite wall with enough force to jounce it sideways. Before it came to a stop, Hector wrapped his arms around Steph and yanked her bodily over the side, away from the bed and into the next curtained off trauma bay.

Steph's bare feet contacted the tile floor and she flinched at the cold. Hector didn't let her slow down; he pushed through that bay and into the next, shouldering aside the curtains until they reached the solid wall at the very end of the emergency room.

Steph shivered, too aware of the cold against her bare legs and feet. Her arms wrapped around her mid section as her brain tried to process what just happened. A windbreaker appeared in front of her and she stared at it for a long moment before realizing that Hector had stripped his off.

"Wha—"

He put a finger to his lips and waited until she took it from him. Then he pantomimed putting it around his waist and tying the arms together, and she finally realized what he wanted. Nodding, she wrapped it so it hung over her backside and cinched it tight so it wouldn't slip.

"This way," said Hector, taking her hand and tugging her towards the opening in the curtain surrounding the empty bay. She followed, conscious of the crashes erupting from down the hallway. Either Ram was giving the nurse a hell of a fight, or she was a lot tougher than she looked.

She peered around the curtain, then jerked back when a uniformed security guard sprinted past.

Hector nudged Steph. "Go. Now."

Biting her lip, Steph eased into the hallway and scampered towards the double doors with a bright exit sign. She sincerely hoped Hector had paid attention when he'd come in, because she couldn't see this ending well if they got turned around and wound up a few narrow corridors away from the ER.

" _Hey! Stop!"_

Steph didn't wait to see who yelled at them. She bolted, skidding a little on the slick tiles. She hit the exit doors with her shoulder, bending her knees a little just in case someone had thought to lock them. They crashed open, bouncing off the walls so Steph hit them twice. Hector steadied her and urged her on, wrapping an arm around her waist so she didn't trip and flash everyone in the ER waiting room.

Natural light beckoned to her left, and she swerved in that direction, hoping that it would lead to an outside exit. They emerged into another waiting room with a reception desk and automatic doors to the hospital foyer. The doors started to slide open as they approached, then froze and slowly started to close.

Desperation gave Steph extra speed. She sprinted, turning sideways to fit through the narrowing opening. Hector squeezed through after her, swearing under his breath as the edges caught him in the chest and back. A male nurse looked up as they ran through the lobby and took a step in their direction, obviously intending to block them, but he never had the chance. Hector stiff-armed him, sending him tumbling backwards into a tangle of cushioned chairs. Then he grabbed Steph's hand and urged her to run even faster.

They came out into the drop off area just a few hundred yards from the main parking lot. The cold cement burned the bottoms of her feet, but Steph gritted her teeth and didn't slow down. She wasn't giving up, not before she found out who was behind all of this destruction. If they wanted her, she wasn't going to make it easy for them, especially not after everything Ranger sacrificed to protect her.

A black SUV with New Jersey plates flashed its lights and beeped when Hector pointed a key fob at it. Steph angled towards it instinctively. If it was a RangeMan vehicle, that meant it was monitored, and she was betting Lester was already scrambling more men.

 _The problem is staying alive long enough for it to do any good_. A too-familiar buzz zipped past them and Steph ducked instinctively. Bits of pavement erupted ahead and to the left and she heard the report a second later. Another bullet slammed into a car as they ran past, setting off the automatic alarm.

"Why are they shooting at us?" she demanded, hunching her shoulders even as she ran faster. Her breath was starting to come in deeper pants; even after the weeks of training in the dance studio, her stamina wasn't the best. "We haven't done anything!"

Hector shook his head, urging her on towards the SUV and safety. Somehow she found more speed, even as the stitch in her side grew sharper and the soles of her feet burned. The relief at reaching the SUV turned to dismay when she tugged on the door handle and nothing happened. Steph tried it again and the door refused to budge.

"Hector! It's locked!"

He turned her away from the SUV. "Other one."

"What?"

More bullets pinged off nearby cars and they both ducked. Hector tugged her towards the front of the SUV. Steph followed, crouching down to stay below the window level of the cars, but it wasn't easy. The gown parted over her back and the cold wind felt like it just blew off the Atlantic in the middle of a nor'easter.

They rounded the front bumper to find a little Pinto station wagon hidden behind the bulk of the SUV. Sitting next to the shiny black vehicle, the Pinto looked like an aging prom queen still wearing her tiara and sash. Steph counted at least three different body colors on the hood, side rear doors and front driver side door. The wheels were completely bald and one headlight was missing.

Of course it was the one Hector wanted.

"Seriously?" Steph asked, shuffling back a little so he could pop the lock on the back passenger side. The former gang member didn't answer her, just opened the door and waved her in.

The windshield of the SUV broke in a spray of glass and Hector didn't ask again. He shoved her into the back seat, ignoring that fact that she was flashing everyone in Philadelphia and shut the door behind her. Before Steph could get herself mostly upright and sitting, he was in the driver's seat and working under the steering column to get it started.

The engine turned over grudgingly, sounding thin and severely underpowered. While Steph was used to a variety of cars due to her abysmal luck with keeping any of them for more than a few months, the Pinto was by far the weakest she'd ever heard.

Compared to Big Blue or Ranger's Porsche, it sounded like it should be in the ICU hooked up to life support.

Her amusement at that picture faded when she remembered that Ranger was in the ICU and would be for the foreseeable future. And he was there because of her and the absolutely insane people who seemed to flock to her like wasps to a melted ice cream cone on a Jersey boardwalk.

"Down," said Hector. She flattened herself in the back seat and he threw the Pinto into reverse, shooting out from behind the sheltering SUV. There was a pause that ended with more gunshots and Hector floored the accelerator. The little car zipped past slower moving cars, weaving through the parking lot and then out into the street. Horns honked as he took a hard right, then a left and merged into traffic.

Her cheek pressed against the worn cushions, in spite of the musty, rank odor drifting up from them. Adrenaline had given Steph the strength to run and escape, but now that the immediate danger was passing that strength drained out of her. The touch of cold vinyl against her bare back also reminded her that she wasn't particularly well dressed for being a fugitive.

Hector took a hand off the wheel and pushed a duffel bag over the front seat towards her. She grabbed it before it could fall and unzipped it. Inside was the underwear, t-shirt and jeans as well as a pair of new sneakers and socks that she desperately needed.

"I'm going to get out of this hospital gown," she said as she pulled them out of the bag. "And God bless Ella for thinking of everything."

Hector might have snorted, but Steph couldn't be sure. He took another turn, seemingly at random, and gestured for her to keep her head down.

"Yeah, yeah," she said, "I'll stay down. But I refuse to be on the lam dressed like this. You guys couldn't give me enough fair warning so I at least had pants on?"

A sound that might have been a laugh came from the front of the car, but since Steph was stuffing herself into the t-shirt before maneuvering the hospital gown off and the bra on underneath that, she chose to ignore it. Once free of the hated thin cotton gown, she shoved it into the bottom of the duffel and zipped the top shut.

As far as she was concerned, they could toss it in the nearest garbage dumpster so she didn't have to ever look at it again.

Getting into the jeans proved a little more complicated, especially without untying Hector's windbreaker before she was covered. In the end, Steph was just glad that she was more flexible than she used to be. There was a bad moment when her right toe caught in the hem of the jeans and the resulting pain washed through her injured leg and up into her back, but she gritted her teeth until it passed and kept going.

That left her bare, dirty, cold feet. It was a shame to shove them into the pristine white socks, but her toes were nearly frozen and she didn't have any other options. When Steph tied the last knot on the laces, she heaved a sigh of relief. There was nothing so unnerving as wandering around a strange urban center half-naked.

Hector wasn't weaving through the streets anymore, so Steph raised her head just enough that she could see through the cracked front windshield. They weren't on a main thoroughfare either; the old, crumbling buildings had seen better days, and they crowded close to the street, pushing down towards the garbage-strewn sidewalks and pitted asphalt.

"Where are we?"

He glanced back at her, assessing her condition and flashing her a grin when he saw her once again decent. "Hide good."

"I hope part of that hiding involves getting something to eat." Her stomach punctuated that with a low, threatening rumble. It wasn't quite the full out growl that warned of a pissy mood to follow, just the reminder to get things taken care of before worse happened.

"Clinic first." He pulled into a narrow alley that was almost too small for the Pinto and drove over the garbage littering it until he reached the back of a three-story brownstone in the middle of the block. A dirty white sedan was parked in one slot beside the dark grey steel back door; Hector parked next to it and turned off the engine.

Cautiously, Steph looked around. It looked a lot like the area around Stark in Trenton with crumbling buildings, broken pavement and trash. There were signs that this neighborhood at least hadn't given into a fatal despair—a child's plastic tricycle parked by a back stoop, flowers growing defiantly in a window box and laundry fluttering on a sagging clothesline. As Steph opened the door cautiously, she didn't immediately hear sirens, either.

 _Point in their favor_.

Hector slid a hand under her elbow as she looked around, guiding her quickly to the shelter of the door. He rapped twice on the peeling paint, waited a beat, then rapped again. Seconds passed like hours and Steph tried to make herself as small as possible next to him in the thin shadow of the doorway.

The lock rattled and the door opened a crack.

"Qué?"

Hector spoke quickly, holding up what looked like an ID in his wallet. The person on the other side of the door extended a hand for it but he wouldn't let it go. Instead he let the doorkeeper draw it inside, and as soon as it passed the edge of the door he shoved it forward, pushing the person back and giving them room to crowd inside.

The entry was lit by a single incandescent bulb hanging by electrical wire from the hole in the ceiling. Hector muscled the door closed and turned to the young Hispanic woman picking herself up from the chipped linoleum floor. Her dark eyes flashed in the poor light as she closed the distance between them and fearlessly started berating him in rapid, irate Spanish.

Steph was lost after the first word, so she stuck close to Hector and looked around, noting the two rickety steps to the level of the main floor and the trash can in the corner next to a jumble of children's shoes. Voices were audible somewhere in the house, then a door slammed and there was quiet.

Curiosity got the better of her. Steph drifted slowly away from Hector and the woman, glancing at them occasionally to make sure they hadn't noticed her movement. Knowing her luck, they would probably break off their argument just about the time she was on the steps with absolutely no excuse as to why she was there.

The door creaked, not loud enough that it would interrupt the argument, but enough that Steph heard it. Slowly, she turned her head and met the sparkling dark eyes of the little boy peering through the crack. She smiled tentatively, not sure if the combination of her hair and the aftermath of her last few days would make her into a scary sight or not.

The toddler smiled back at her, giggling a little behind his hand as he opened the door wider.

 _Evidently not._

A last glance showed Hector still busy, so Steph mentally shrugged and crouched next to the steps. "Hey."

"Hola," he said in a piping little boy's voice that melted her heart. His cheeks were well rounded, plump enough that they would rival Rex after a large meal. But what tugged at her the most was the twinkle of mischief in his eyes and the ready smile that seemed to pop out like the sun from behind clouds.

"Hola," she repeated, wincing a little when the edge of the step pressed against her injured side. "You live here?"

He grinned at her again, and Steph thought about another man with a smile like that, a man who was lying in a recovery room of a major trauma center. Her heart squeezed and she wrapped an arm around her middle, trying to contain that pain to her chest. A single tear ran down her cheek before she could catch it and Steph sniffed.

A small hand touched her face and she blinked back more of the tears to find the little boy sitting on the top step, his head tilted to the side as he watched her with avid curiosity. He smiled at her again, obviously hoping to stave off more female hysterics, but she just didn't have the strength any more to find a smile to give him in return.

 _I want Ranger. I want to be there for him and I don't know how to make that happen_.

A strong arm went around her waist. Startled, Steph almost fell over as the woman Hector had been arguing with steadied her. She threw another stream of words at Hector, who had started forward to help, and he glowered at her but stayed back. The woman pointed out the door. He hesitated for a moment, then threw a short sentence at her before walking out.

The little boy pushed the door into the rest of the house open wider, scrambling to stay in front of them as the woman directed Steph up the steps. Her side ached and the burning pain traveled down to her knee and made it buckle with each step. Even worse, the shakes were starting and she trembled with a ferocity that made it difficult to stay upright.

Ranger had held her countless number of times after one of her close calls, giving her his strength and warmth to chase away the reaction, and more tears dripped down her face as she felt his absence keenly. Her sight blurred and she was forced to rely on the woman to avoid walking into walls she had no idea were there and couldn't see.

Her guide stopped abruptly, turned her around and pushed gently so Steph sat, trusting that there would be something there. A firm cushion covered in vinyl sighed as her weight settled on it and she flashed back to the couch in the bails bond office complaining underneath her as Lula tried not to snicker.

 _Lula…_

A warm washcloth touched her face, soothing away the soreness of her eyes. The woman gently patted the washcloth against the stinging skin, then handed it to Steph so she could press it against her eyes and wait for the worst of the pain to pass.

Noises around her—metal clinking against metal and the rattle of objects—had Steph pulling the washcloth away from her face and blinking. Then she blinked again, not quite registering what her sore and bleary eyes were trying to tell her.

Unless she'd managed to step into an alternate universe, she was sitting in an exam room of a well-supplied medical clinic. Neat white cabinets lined one wall and a deep sink with jars of band-aids, cotton balls and ear swabs took up the space next to them. Even the exam table she sat on could have graced any clinic in the Burg.

A built in drawer on the other side of the table slid shut and the woman who had opened the back door to them straightened. She placed a brightly colored cotton smock on the paper liner next to Steph.

"Por favor."

She patted the smock with its yellow, blue and pink jumbo daisies and bright green ties. It might have looked like something Lula could accessorize with ease, but it was still a gown, and Steph wasn't all that eager to strip for another one of those so soon after getting rid of the last one.

Steph shook her head. "Not again. I'll keep my clothes on, thank you."

The woman shook her head as well, picking up the smock and offering it to her. When Steph still refused to take it, she put it down and placed both hands on her hips.

"I can't help you if you won't cooperate," she said in clear, lightly accented English.

"I'm fine. I'm just a little sore from skidding over the asphalt." Steph bit her lip as another spasm of burning pain washed up her side. "I just got out of one of those things. I don't want to have to run out of here half-dressed."

For a moment it looked like the other woman was going to throw her hands in the air and leave Steph to her own devices, but then her expression softened. "Querida, my brother may be the most difficult child of my parents, but he is anxious for you. Please let me reassure him when he gets back that you are okay."

"Your brother?" Steph frowned, trying to see Hector in the petite young woman in front of her.

"I'm Hira," she said. "I run this neighborhood clinic. Hector is my older brother."

"Oh." There wasn't much more she could say than that. Hector was even more protective of his privacy than Ranger, and rarely talked about either his family or his past. "I'm Stephanie. I…work with your brother."

"I know," said Hira, her expression grim. "He said as much, and said that he brought you here because it was not safe for you at the trauma center. So will you please let me help you by putting on the gown?"

"I'll take off my shirt," said Steph in the tone of voice that said she wouldn't be pushed any farther. One sprint in a state of undress per day was all she would allow, thank you very much.

Hira nodded and put the smock away and locking the exam room door. As she turned back towards the table, she got a good look at the pavement burns decorating Steph's side and sucked in a breath.

"Oh, querida. How could Hector drag you through the streets without getting you help before this?"

Steph opened her mouth to defend Hector, to tell his sister that he was just doing his job, but then shut it again, not sure if he would want his family entangled any more than necessary in this whole mess. But then she thought about how so many people in the Burg were more than willing to tell _her_ family about all the bad things that happened to her, and couldn't stay silent.

"Hector was doing his job of protecting me," she said, trying to keep her tone reasonable. "Something went wrong after a job we did this weekend, and the security company we both work for was trying to get me out of harm's way. He's put himself in the line of fire just to keep me safe."

"Pfft," Hira said. "Did he tell you to say that? He's lied to us before, and we've found out later that he was breaking the law and getting us tangled up in his dealings."

Steph slid off the table, fully intending to walk out. Sister or no, Steph wasn't about to sit here and let someone run down Hector or anyone else from RangeMan. Those men were her friends, and she wasn't going to stay where they weren't welcome.

"Sit down."

"No." Steph grabbed her t-shirt and searched for the neck hole. "Hector is my friend, and a good man. I'll wait for him out back so you don't have to worry about being dragged into this."

His sister blocked the door. "Please don't. Let me help you."

"I want Hector." Steph blinked back more tears, her nasal passages clogging as the waterworks grew worse. "I want him to come back and tell me everything is all right and I can go see Ranger."

The pain inside of her grew until she couldn't see anything but darkness and worry—worry for Eddie and Joe and her other friends on the police force in the middle of a gang war, for Tank and Lula and Connie, left behind to face people who didn't seem to mind how many others they killed. Most of all she worried about Ranger, alone and helpless in a hospital that wasn't as safe as she wanted it to be, and there weren't nearly enough Merry Men around him to watch over him while he was out of it.

Steph sank to the floor, the tears becoming sobs that wouldn't stop.

"Querida. Please. Let me help you."

Hira knelt next to Steph, holding her and rocking her slightly as Steph continued crying until there were no more tears. Every once in a while she would whisper something in Spanish and squeeze a little tighter, as if to remind Steph that she wasn't really alone.

Only she was. Until Hector came back, Steph was on her own and completely unable to figure out where she was. This was unknown turf and she had no one to help her find a way out.

The last tear took with it the last of her energy. Steph slid down until she curled on her good side on the floor, the chill of the tiles soothing away the burning of her injuries. A shiver that was more of a shudder ran through her. Then another. Before long Steph was shuddering again so that her teeth chattered, and the cold running over her skin felt like the sharp, unfriendly wind of deep winter.

Hira scrambled to her feet, rummaging in a cupboard on the far wall. She came back with a heavy blanket that she shook out and wrapped around Steph's shoulders.

"You need more help than I can give you," she said. "You should really go to the hospital."

"No hospital," said Steph, gasping a little as she tried to catch her breath. But she had been running on empty for so long that her body didn't even try to obey her silent command. No matter what Hector's sister ultimately decided to do, Steph had made up her own mind. The only hospital she was interested in was the one where she could keep a bedside vigil for Ranger until he opened those dark eyes and ordered her taken to a safe house.

 _At least he can issue the order. That doesn't mean anyone is going to wind up in one._

Shutting out the sounds around her, Steph tried once again to bring her breathing and her body back under control. Her mind went straight to Ranger, supplying an image of him on stakeout behind the wheel of a fleet SUV, his body relaxed and his mind alert as they watched the house of a suspect. Bit by bit she built the picture of him from memory, lingering on the curve of his wrist as he rested it on the top of the steering wheel and the graceful, strong fingers that could harness a crazed psycho or rouse her passion with equal ease. His strong back rested against the seat, hiding the muscles that lifted her easily in his arms, carrying her away from danger or straight to his bed, where he loved her without hesitation.

And his eyes, sweeping alertly over the area, softening only when they rested on her, sitting in the seat next to him trying not to squirm and fidget out of sheer boredom. Then a faint grin would curve his lips and he would turn back to his watch, focused on the job at hand but with that _frisson_ of electricity that said he was always aware of her.

The shuddering eased. Hector's sister still sat next to her, whispering words in Spanish as she gently cleaned Steph's hands and side. Then she took the washcloth and cleaned the tear tracks of Steph's face, finishing with a gentle smile that was at odds with her previous argument with Hector.

"Sleep, querida. You need to heal, and sleep will be a good start."

Steph snuggled under the heavy blanket, her head resting on another blanket that smelled clean and fresh, just like Ella's. The floor was still hard, and she still didn't know when Hector would be back, but she couldn't fight any more to stay awake.

The last thought Steph took with her as she slid down into darkness was that she would give anything to feel the warmth of Ranger's hand settled on the back of her neck and hear his deep voice telling her that everything was going to be all right.

 _Then I would tell him he's the one I miss the most when he's not here…_


	6. Chapter 6

_All characters belong to Janet Evanovich. Completely Babe. Rated M for mature content, adult situations and language. Mistakes, illogical circumstances and unrepentant romantic encounters of the Ranger kind are entirely my fault. Places, names and procedures have been altered to fit the story. I am neither a medical nor law enforcement professional, so all mistakes are mine. My deepest thanks to everyone who has read this story and those who have taken the time to review._

The smell was the first thing Steph noticed. Not the clean disinfected odors of a clinic but an acrid smell that told her she wasn't in the room with Hira anymore. Stale sweat, rancid food and cigarette smoke filtered into her nostrils from the rough cloth under her cheek and her stomach rolled ominously.

She was warm enough, but that was mostly from the large coat draped over her, covering her body and head. Underneath it she was still in the t-shirt and jeans, and her legs were curled uncomfortably tight against her stomach. A large gauze pad was taped to her right cheek; the adhesive pulled at her skin every time she swallowed or even breathed.

Her leg twitched, rustling the coat. A hand touched her shoulder and Steph stilled. Sounds filtered through the heavy coat—blaring horns, tires on pavement and human voices, all too close for her comfort. A cool tendril of air curled under the edges of the coat, bringing with it the crisp touch of morning air on a Philadelphia fall day.

The hand on her shoulder withdrew when she didn't move again, and Steph took the opportunity to ease her nose away from the stained cloth car seat she'd pressed against as she slept. Then she heard Hector's voice in the front seat, talking rapidly in a hushed tone, and even though she couldn't make out the words, the urgency behind them sent a lick of cold fear through her. Steph stayed still as a rabbit, her ears straining to hear other sounds beside Hector and the traffic outside the car.

The ring from a nearby phone startled her. Steph flinched reflexively, wincing as the sharp movement pulled at her cheek and side.

Gently Hector lifted the corner of the coat far enough that she could see him in the front seat of a car that definitely wasn't the Pinto. A St. Christopher's medal hung from the rear view mirror and the scent cartridge fastened to the front vent showed signs of having melted at least a few times in the worst summer heat the East Coast could offer. On the dashboard, a little sticker read _Little Sisters Know Where the Bodies Are Buried._

Hector tapped his forefinger on the seat in front of her and Steph's attention shot back to him. She searched his face for an indication of how bad things were, but to her surprise he was both more relaxed than she'd seen him before and even smiling a little.

 _Maybe it's the smile of a guy who's looking forward to making some people pay. Good thing he's on our side._

He grinned a little wider and held out a familiar phone to her. Steph shifted so she could raise herself a little from the seat, well aware that Hector was watching to make sure she didn't expose herself above the level of the windows. Taking Ranger's phone from him, she slid it next to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Steph!" Bobby sounded as close to relieved as she had heard him in a long time. "Are you okay, honey? Have you been seen by a doctor?"

"Never mind that," she said, gripping the plastic cover on the phone so tight that the edges dug into her hand. "How's Ranger? Is he going to be all right?"

"Ranger is fine. They moved him to ICU to monitor him but it looks like he'll get the okay for a general surgical room by mid afternoon. They extubated him this morning and he's maintaining his oxygen levels. If he can keep his mean arterial pressure in a good range, we'll be well on our way to getting out of here."

Relief swept through her, punctuated by a too familiar stinging at the corners of her eyes. The tension in her body lessened enough to make her realize she'd been running on an adrenaline high for too long.

"When will he wake up?"

"He's been drifting in and out," said Bobby. "The more sleep he gets the faster his body will heal right now. He's already asked about you, and he is worried that you're not being cared for properly. So getting back to my first question, have you been seen by a doctor?"

"Uh, sort of. Hector took me to see his sister."

Bobby made an approving sound. "Hira is a good nurse practitioner. She runs the clinic so people in the poorer neighborhoods aren't afraid to seek medical treatment before it's too late."

Steph hitched herself around until she was flat on her back, staring at the stains on what had once been a white ceiling. "I'm okay, Bobby. But I want to know what happened in the ER. Who are these people? Why are they after us?"

"The CNA who tried to get you was a fake. Her ID was stolen from an employee fired two weeks ago and supposedly inactivated. The security guards wrestled both her and Ram down; I vouched for him and the CNA is in the custody of the Philadelphia police for now. The last I heard, she's not talking."

"They've already hurt Ranger and Lula and who knows who else." Steph chewed on her bottom lip, wincing when she managed to rip off a piece of dried skin. "How do we shut them down? We can't keep running forever. Sooner or later, they're going to get one of us."

He was silent for a moment, and she heard a faint thumping in the background. "Lester and Tank are working on it. Tank is running through his and Ranger's government contacts. He moved Lula into a safe house and is personally visiting the people he knows to get answers. Lester's in charge at RangeMan for now. He has a few options for you to go to ground—places that we know are safe and where you can rest up and heal."

Her stomach twisted at the roundabout way Bobby referred to a safe house. "Will Ranger be going to a safe house?"

"Safest one we have right now," he said. "And I'll be going with him to monitor his recovery."

"Then that's where I want to go." Her fingers were back to gripping the phone casing, enough to make the tendons in the back of her hand hurt. "He was shot and blown up because he was trying to protect me, and the least I can do is help him recover."

"Sweetie, you don't need to—"

"I want to do this, Bobby." Steph reined in her temper, knowing that she would stand a better chance of persuading Bobby if she kept calm. "No arguments. You'll be there and can monitor both of us instead of spending half your time on the phone getting updates on how I'm doing. If I have to be in a safe house, I'd rather be doing something useful like helping Ranger than just sitting on my hands watching the clock move too slow."

"Bomber—"

"No." She gritted her teeth, keeping the tears at bay. "Please, Bobby. This is what I want to do. If you try to stick me anywhere else, I promise you I won't stop trying to either get back to Trenton to solve this case or making myself a target to draw these people out. Don't think for a moment I won't make everyone's lives miserable."

"Shit," muttered Bobby, then blew out a breath. "Fine. Do what you want. Could you talk to somebody for me, though? He's been trying to crawl out of bed to get to the phone ever since he figured out I was talking to you."

Steph tried to ignore the lurch in her still-empty stomach. "Put him on, Bobby. I need to hear his voice."

What she left unsaid was that she needed more than Ranger's voice. Right now she needed him to yank open the car door, haul her bodily out of it and kiss her senseless.

"Babe?"

Her eyes slid closed, trying to hide from the pain. His voice was so weak, barely a whisper, and the pain knifing through her heart that said she was responsible for all of it was more than she could bear.

"Ranger," she said, and bit her lip as she choked over the name. "Ranger, I'm so sorry. I know this is my fault. I'm so, so sorry. I wish—"

By the time she stumbled to a halt, the tears were streaming unchecked down her cheeks, wetting her hair and dripping down her neck to the seat. Steph drew in a shuddering breath and wrapped her free arm around her stomach to keep the sobs in check.

Silence. Silence was the only thing she could hear on the other end of the line, and it was an emptiness that just made the pain worse. Ranger could do quiet very well, and when he was mad the silence could be thick enough to cut with a knife. Only this time, Steph didn't have the option of denial.

This time it hurt worse than it had before.

"Steph?"

"I'm here, Bobby," she whispered, her voice thick. "He's really mad at me this time, isn't he."

"No, sweetie, no! Don't even think that." The sound of a door opening and then shutting came through the phone. "Listen, Steph, Ranger loves you and he wouldn't be mad over something nobody could have foreseen."

She shook her head, even though he couldn't see her. "But this _is_ my fault. If I hadn't taken those dancing lessons, if I'd just gone with my usual distraction outfit, then these people wouldn't have looked twice at me. I wanted so bad to make Ranger proud of me, and all I managed to do was get the bonds office blown up and Ranger shot. Now he's in the hospital and everyone at RangeMan must hate me."

Bobby was silent while Steph laid out all of the goofs, mis-steps and screw-ups that just seemed to follow at her heels. It was a bitter pill to swallow to realize that all of the work she put into this distraction job had done nothing to keep Ranger or the Merry Men any safer than if she walked in blind.

"Sweetie, put Hector on the phone," Bobby said finally. His voice wasn't clipped like it sounded when he was pissed, but he didn't sound happy, either. "I'm going to give him the details on what's next and he'll make sure you meet up with us when we're finally able to move. Are you very sure you want to go with us?"

"I have to do this, Bobby. I owe it to Ranger." Steph didn't wait for his answer; she took the phone away from her ear and held it out to Hector in the front seat. "Bobby wants to talk to you."

Hector took the phone and listened for a brief second before speaking. Even if he had been speaking English, Steph didn't think she would have been able to follow him; his rate was rapid fire, and the hand he kept on the steering wheel slowly clenched until his knuckles were white and the tendons stood out.

Steph curled on her right side, gasping a little as the movement jarred the abrasions. Her skin pulled and stretched in the way it usually did when injuries were in the process of scabbing over, which gave her some hope that these would eventually heal.

Hector ended the call, scowling at the screen with an expression that was second only to Ranger's pissed off face for inspiring fear. He didn't throw the phone out of the window, which Steph took to be a good sign, but he very much looked like he wanted to.

Her stomach rumbled, then let out a long, rolling gurgle that seemed to go on forever. Steph flushed and tightened her arm around her middle, but Hector glanced back at her just as her stomach howled again.

"Sorry," she said, offering up an apologetic smile and shrug of her shoulders. "Guess I'm still hungry after all of this running around."

He laughed then, shaking his head as he faced forward. The car complained about starting, but Hector worked the glass and ignition with a master's touch and the engine grudgingly turned over and caught. He muttered a few words under his breath that could have been curses; they sounded vaguely familiar but she didn't have the energy to puzzle them out.

Hector checked all of the mirrors before pulling into traffic. The thrum of the engine vibrated through the car and into her body, lulling her back to sleep. Steph tried to cover a yawn but she saw Hector's glance into the rear view mirror and grimaced. At the rate she was going, she would sleep through most of the day and miss everything, only to wake up in some safe house and discover that the Merry Men had decided to keep her away from Ranger for both their good.

So she stayed still under the coat, watching the buildings grow shorter and more trees flash by the windows. The angle of the sun told her it was still early morning; the traffic and Hector's swearing told her that they were probably in the middle of the rush hour as well. Hector turned onto back streets, heading west and north, and driving at an almost leisurely speed.

Despite her best efforts, Steph fell asleep before they got too far. When she woke again, it was to find the car stopped and Hector nowhere to be seen. Panicked, she scrambled upright, forgetting about the windows and everything else as she searched for the one last link she had with RangeMan. And with Ranger.

Steph didn't relax until she caught sight of the former gang member talking to Ram as they stood next to a dark green SUV. Their expressions said this wasn't a chance meeting, and Hector's hand gestures suggested that he wasn't happy about certain things. The cars were parked in the back lot of a shopping center, away from the main road but still close enough to the mall entrance that they wouldn't draw attention.

The light had gone from early morning to full noon, glaring off the windshields. Steph wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, hissing a little when the abrupt movement lifted the edges of the gauze pad on her cheek and took off some skin.

Both Hector and Ram glanced towards the car and Steph ducked down instinctively. Her stomach gurgled loudly and she put a hand to it, pushing a little to get the hungry, empty feeling to go away.

The front passenger side door opened and Ram stuck his head in. "Steph, we're ready to make the switch. You need anything before Hector leaves?"

"I—" Her eyes dropped to the bandaged hand he had resting on the door. "What happened to you?"

The blank face that all of the Merry Men seemed to have came down. "Nothing."

"Ram—"

He sighed, a sound that she didn't usually associate with Ranger's men, and glared at the bandage. "That bitch bit me. I had to have it disinfected and stitched. By Kallie, no less. Good thing I'm up to date on all my shots or she would have taken great pleasure in giving them to me. In my ass."

"I'm sorry," she said, but he shook his head.

"Not your fault. None of this is your fault, Steph. Tank has some leads and if they are correct, there was no way to predict these guys were going to be there on Friday or that they would take the risk of outing themselves. I know Ranger would have pulled out of the job and lost the bond rather than endanger you like this."

Ram seemed to expect a response from her, so Steph dredged up a faint smile that vanished as soon as her stomach growled a lot louder than she wanted. He grinned and backed out of the car.

"C'mon, Bomber. Let's get the beast fed and you somewhere you can wash up and get a proper rest."

Hector came around to the other side of the car, getting in the driver's seat and starting it up. Ram opened the back door and used his body to shield her as she scrambled out. Her legs went weak as she straightened and Ram didn't bother with steadying her until she could get the feeling back into them. He swung her up into his arms and carried her to the back seat of the SUV. Before she could protest, Steph was gently placed on the bench seat, covered with a Kevlar blanket and the door was shut firmly behind her.

As Steph shifted to find a more comfortable position, Ram climbed into the car and pulled out of the parking lot, one hand on the top of the steering wheel and the other resting on the back of the front seat. That position turned him enough that he could talk to her without having to look away from the road.

"Here's the plan for now, Bomber. We're going to a safe house on the north side. It's stocked so you can take a shower, get into some clean clothes, eat and catch a nap. Depending on what we hear from Bobby, we'll either leave from there for the airport or move to a different safe house until Ranger's able to travel."

Her stomach twisted, and not in a good way. Huddled underneath the heavy blanket, Steph pressed her lips together and struggled not to break down. She wasn't going to change her mind about being in the same safe house as Ranger, wherever it was that the Merry Men were going to take them, but after the phone call she wasn't sure he would want her there as a constant reminder of how much money this was costing him.

"Bomber, you still with me?"

"Yes," she said automatically. Her fingers felt cold, poking out from the edge of the blanket, and she pulled them back into the warm cocoon. "I'm still here."

For a moment, she thought Ram had rested his hand on her shoulder, but then the weight vanished and she decided she'd been mistaken. The guys didn't do the touchy-feely stuff, and after being run over by a hospital bed and bitten, Steph thought that Ram would keep his distance from her, just for safety's sake.

"There are energy bars in the sack next to you," he said gently. "Bobby wants you to drink some water, too. Last thing we need is for you to get dehydrated and wind up on a stretcher next to Ranger."

Lifting up a bit on one elbow, Steph rummaged through the sack, pulling out the bars and quickly devouring two of them before twisting the cap off a water bottle and chugging down half of it. By the time she cleaned up her mess and settled under the blanket again, Ram was slowing down and turning. Gravel crunched under the tires and he turned again, the light going dim as he stopped and shut off the engine.

"Here we are, Bomber. Time to get you cleaned up and feeling human again."

Impulsive Stephanie would have thrown off the Kevlar blanket and bounced out of the car before Ram could open his door. But the events of the past day had taught her a heavy lesson. So she stayed still until he opened the back door and pulled the blanket off.

She blinked against the dim light and took in what she could see of the garage. Unfinished wood walls hemmed them in on three sides, with a windowless pull down door making up the fourth. As she slid out of the SUV, Ram steadied her with his good hand. She wobbled a bit on the landing and clung to the door, closing her eyes against the dip and loop of the world around her. Ram once again scooped her up and shut the door with his foot, carrying her easily up the three steps to the house door.

"I can walk," she said, trying to sound strong.

He didn't answer, just fobbed open the door with a button on his keychain. One brief moment later, and they were inside what RangeMan considered a safe house in Philadelphia.

The entry door led straight into a large, custom kitchen painted in neutral tones that looked like it had been set up for a magazine photo shoot. Copper bottom pans scrubbed to a bright sheen hung from a pot rack over a stove that could easily feed a group of hungry Merry Men. A deep double farmhouse sink took up the rest of the space in the island and a stainless steel double door refrigerator big enough to hold a couple sides of beef made up most of the right hand wall. The left hand side was all counter and cupboard, with a single window covered by a custom blind in the middle.

Steph swayed only a little when Ram gently set her down next to the butcher-block kitchen table. Flipping on the overhead light, he nudged her towards a chair and fetched a sandwich and another bottle of water from the fridge.

"Eat that while I clear the rest of the house," he said, unholstering his .357 and checking the clip. "It'll only take a minute and then you can take a shower and hit the sack. Manny will relieve me in a few hours if we're still here."

"And if we're not?"

Ram shrugged. "Then we'll be on to the next place."

Steph took a bite of her sandwich, closing her eyes for a moment as her taste buds reveled in the real food. She swallowed. "Not the safe house Bobby mentioned?"

He shook his head. "Lester is being careful. We'll jump around a bit before heading to the final destination. Wouldn't want these people following us too close."

Steph went back to eating as Ram vanished into the darker regions of the house to check for stray dust bunnies or cobwebs that might be in cahoots with the bad guys. The sandwich was gone and she was licking her fingers when he came back. He holstered his gun and watched her, a faint smile on his face.

"We've got more sandwiches and some fruit if you're that hungry," he said, going to the fridge and pulling it open. "Hmm. Apple?"

A faint smile fought its way onto her lips as she remembered the night she'd offered Ranger hot chocolate after playing tonsil hockey with him on the floor of her living room. "Pass."

Ram fished a plate out of the upper shelves and slowly waved it back and forth. "Apple… _turnover_. With cream cheese frosting. And I can nuke it so it's nice and warm and add a generous scoop of ice cream with caramel and chocolate topping. Whaddya say, Bomber?"

Her smile faded as the memory of Ranger's silence on the phone killed her amusement. "No, I think I've had enough. I should probably get cleaned up so you can go into night guard mode."

Steph avoided his eyes as she pushed away from the table and then hesitated, not quite sure which direction led to where she wanted to go. The plate _clinked_ quietly on the counter as Ram set it down and came over to pick her up again.

"I can walk," Steph protested, and he shrugged.

"Probably, but you're so tired right now that it's a real possibility you'll just fall down the stairs and pass out at the bottom. I'd rather not explain that one to Manny, Bobby _or_ Ranger, if you don't mind."

Put that way, she couldn't argue, although she very much wanted to. So Steph crossed her arms, lowered her chin and stared at the wall as Ram carried her through the dark front room and up a staircase with a dark wood banister and light pine wood steps. A dark runner with embroidered edges covered the risers and wainscoting separated the painted upper walls from the lower wood ones.

The steps ended in a landing partway up with a bank of leaded glass windows, then turned and ascended another five steps to a foyer with three different archways leading to the bedroom suites. Ram went left, ducking under the arch as he carried her into a large room with a king bed, fireplace and most importantly an open door to the en suite bathroom.

Steph caught a glimpse of gleaming white tile and didn't even notice when Ram let her slide down to her feet. She wobbled towards the door, mesmerized by the siren song of a pristine shower waiting just for her. Steph didn't see Ram back out of the room, leaving the door slightly ajar before he retreated downstairs to lock up for the evening, and she didn't even remember he was there when she pulled her t-shirt off and dropped it on the threshold.

Her breath came out in a soft sigh when she was fully inside the room. It wasn't quite on par with Ranger's penthouse master on Haywood, but it was warm and inviting and the most wonderful thing in the world right at that moment. The large jetted tub tempted her, but Steph knew her own limits, and she wanted to clean up and get horizontal, not fall asleep in a tub of water and require Ram to bust through the door to save her. That would not only be awkward, but would also probably result in Ram losing the use of his other hand, courtesy of Ranger, Bobby, Lester or Tank.

Toeing off her sneakers and leaving the socks stuffed into them, Steph shut the bathroom door and finished getting out of her clothes. She spotted a large fluffy bathrobe draped over the chair of the make up table and knew that she would be making use of it after the shower. The only thing left that would make this a perfect—

 _No Bvlgari_.

Sighing, Steph turned on the body jets. She pulled the gauze off her cheek while the water warmed, then stepped under the spray, scrubbing at her skin as if she could erase the last forty-eight hours.

 _Erase the sight of Ranger lying too still on a gurney while medics worked to save his life and others stayed close to make sure he wouldn't hurt himself trying to get to her._

Her eyes closed under the warm spray and Steph swallowed hard. There it was, the indictment of her part in this whole mess. If only Ranger didn't think she was so helpless that he had to place himself bodily between her and danger. If only he hadn't done it this time, and if only she didn't have the gnawing suspicion that he'd deliberately taken bullets meant for her.

 _If only…_


	7. Chapter 7

_All characters belong to Janet Evanovich. Completely Babe. Rated M for mature content, adult situations and language. Mistakes, illogical circumstances and unrepentant romantic encounters of the Ranger kind are entirely my fault. Places, names and procedures have been altered to fit the story. I am neither a medical or law enforcement professional, so all mistakes are mine. My deepest thanks to everyone who has read this story and those who have taken the time to review._

The bathroom was warm and steamy when she finally stepped out of the shower. Fog clung to the glass shower enclosure and the mirror above the dressing table. Steph slipped into the bathrobe and sank into the upholstered chair, wincing a little as her abrasions pulled with the movement. Wiping the fog off the mirror with the sleeve of her robe, Steph stared at her reflection without really seeing it, her mind still on Ranger. And what she would do if she didn't have his constant, steady presence in her life. Her hands fell limply into her lap.

This was the point where Ranger usually told her to strip all emotions out of the equation, to focus on the goal and not let worry or fear stop her from doing what she had to. Only he wasn't here to tell her, and follow it up with a kiss to her forehead, and Steph couldn't dredge up the confidence to make it sound even halfway convincing when she said it to herself.

She prodded her scraped cheek and winced when the tip came away wet. It didn't hurt, just felt stiff like someone had superglued cardboard to her face.

"Knock, knock." Ram tapped on the bathroom door, startling her. "Steph, you done in there or am I gonna have to call Lester to come in and get you?"

"I'm done. Don't call Lester! Yeesh." She looked around the bathroom, well aware that she didn't have anything on under the robe, then finally clutched the neck of it closed and opened the door a crack. "What do you want?"

He held up a white tube and a roll of gauze. "Manny's here, and you have to put some more antibiotic cream on those skid marks. Hira will take it out of Hector's hide if she thinks he didn't take good enough care of you, and I know you don't want that."

"She probably won't even remember me," Steph said. "It's not like she knows who I am."

"You'd be surprised. Hector may not talk much, but that just means his family listens when he does." Ram gave her enough room to exit the bathroom and motioned her towards the chaise lounge in the corner by the fireplace. "Why don't you sit there and I'll get your face done, then you can do the rest."

Obediently, Steph did as he asked, tucking her bare legs under the edge of the robe and leaning on her left side as much as possible. Ram knelt by the chair and spread the first aid supplies next to him on the floor within easy reach. His touch was surprisingly gentle as he spread the antibiotic ointment with his finger over the burned area, then taped the gauze on her cheek to keep it from soaking into the pillow while she slept.

He sat back on his heels. "That work okay?"

"Yes, thank you." Steph touched her fingers to it, then sighed. Her thoughts were going back to Ranger, and she couldn't help but wonder if he had been moved to another room yet, or if he was even awake enough to realize where he was.

A small buzz interrupted the quiet, and Ram fished in his pocket. "Hector said to keep this close by. I'm guessing this is a call you want to take."

He held the phone out so she could see the screen, and Steph snatched it out of his hands. She swiped her thumb across the screen, her mind definitely not on the possibility of rudeness. By the way Ram chuckled and gathered up gauze and ointment, he wasn't going to make an issue of it, either.

Steph put the phone to her ear. "Bobby?"

A clicking came over the connection, then a voice she didn't expect to hear, softer and hoarser than she'd ever heard it before. "Babe."

"Ranger." His name was less than a whisper, but more than a sigh. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't," he said. "Not…your fault."

"How can you say that?" Steph demanded, her throat clogging with the tears she didn't want to shed. "You almost died. The bonds office blew up. Your men have been injured protecting me. Again. If I'd just done a simple distraction instead of trying to impress everyone, you wouldn't be in the ICU of a major trauma center and I wouldn't be scared you were going to die."

There was more she wanted to say, so much more that she knew he wouldn't tolerate before pushing her away. She gulped air in a vain attempt to regain control and waited for Ranger to say the words that would put a railroad spike right into the heart of their weird non-relationship relationship.

He was silent until she hiccupped, a sure sign that she had been crying, and he echoed her sigh with one of his own.

"Stephanie."

 _Uh-oh._

"This could…have happened…to anyone." Ranger stopped, his breathing loud in her ear. Steph gripped the phone tightly, the tears dripping down her cheeks and soaking the gauze pad.

Interference crackled across the connection and she heard Bobby's voice. "Calm down, idiot, or I'll pot your ass back in bed."

He came on the line. "Steph, I don't want you to worry about what happened. Lester and Tank are handling it and we will keep both of you safe."

"That's the point, Bobby," she said softly. "It's my fault you have to do this at all."

Again with the silence. Steph tried to wait it out, but the pain around her heart kept growing until the tears were in free fall and she couldn't bear it any more. Hastily, she stabbed a finger at the disconnect button and shoved the phone under the chaise cushion when it began to buzz at her.

"I don't care if I hung up," she told the phone and the room in general. "Technically I hung up on Bobby, not Ranger, and he can't be mad about that."

The words rang hollow even to her ears, but she was at the end of her ability to handle anything more tonight. Ranger's phone quit buzzing when it kicked over to voice mail; she didn't think that would deter Bobby or Ranger, and her smile was tight and bitter when it started buzzing again.

"Good night, Ranger," she said, and leaving his phone under the cushion, Steph went to the large bed and pulled back the covers on the bed. She crawled with painful slowness underneath the thick blankets, shifting until she was on her good side facing the door. No doubt Bobby would call Ram or Manny's phone next, and send one of them trudging up the stairs to fetch her. But both men were very protective of her, and she was pretty sure neither would go so far as to wake her up for something that wasn't urgent.

The heavy thump of footsteps on the wood stairs had Steph hastily snuggling into the memory foam mattress and pulling the covers over her shoulder. Closing her eyes, she started breathing in a deep, regular pattern to feign sleep.

The door creaked open, but Steph didn't move. For all intents and purposes, she was dead to the world, exhausted by the events of the past few days.

"Bobby?" Manny's voice broke the stillness. "Yeah, she's asleep. Must've crawled into bed when she was talking to you. Want me to wake her?"

Steph didn't move and didn't stir, even though her curiosity wanted desperately to know what the RangeMan medic would say. Manny made a noncommittal sound and then the quiet descended again.

The door opened a little wider and Manny slipped inside. The floor creaked under his feet as he checked the bathroom over, then came into the main room of the suite and turned off the lights one by one. He plugged in a night light by the bathroom door, and dug into the chaise lounge cushions to retrieve Ranger's phone.

The plastic case clattered as it landed on the bedside table, and Manny paused by the bed for a long moment. Steph shifted a little on the bed, trying to make it look like she was shifting in her sleep, and Manny sighed. The door closed and everything went dark…almost as dark as her thoughts.

Just as sleep began to wash into her waking thoughts, the phone beeped once. Steph popped one eye open just a little in case Manny hadn't left, but the room was empty. Cautiously, she snaked a hand out from under the blankets and picked up the phone to check the readout.

And immediately wished she hadn't. One word floated in that text box. One word, and with it Ranger effectively smashed every barrier she could erect against him. Tears flowed faster, and Steph buried her face in the pillow to muffle the sound of her heart breaking.

The only good thing about crying herself to sleep was that she _did_ eventually sleep. But when Steph pried her eyes open the next morning, she had to deal not only with the aftermath of that crying jag, but also the prospect of having to convince Bobby all over again that she still wanted to be in the same safe house as the injured Ranger.

 _He's not going to let this one go_ , she thought wearily, and threw back the covers to get the day—and the _mea culpas_ —started.

After showering and reapplying the antibiotic ointment, Steph spent a grand total of two minutes staring at her reflection before deciding to leave the gauze bandage off. The scrape was still an angry red crosshatch of scabs and skin but it would heal faster without the covering. The last thing she did was comb the snarls out of her hair and put it into a single braid to keep it out of her face.

A little reconnaissance yielded the location of a closet filled with basic clothes in a variety of sizes. She chose a dark grey t-shirt and jeans that were only a little too big, and finished it off with thick cotton socks and sneakers. The last thing she did was slide Ranger's phone into her front pocket; it was big and large and bulky, but she didn't want to forget it. Not while his last message to her was burning a hole in her brain and in her courage.

When Steph opened the door into the hallway, the delicious smells of sausage and French toast greeted her. They beckoned her down the elaborate staircase, past the carved dark wood and the delicate patterned wallpaper straight to the gourmet kitchen. There Steph found Manny at the range expertly dividing his attention between the frying pan and the griddle.

He saluted her with his spatula. "Good morning, Steph. Orange juice and milk are in the fridge. Help yourself while I plate these for you."

She nodded and grabbed glasses from the open shelf next to the double door refrigerator. While she hadn't quite appreciated the size of everything the night before, opening the right hand door of that fridge changed that little oversight.

Inside was an array of food that would take the entire Trenton office of RangeMan at least a couple days to decimate—from gallons of milk and juice to tubs of yogurt and plastic containers of thawing entrees and side dishes. From the look of the egg basket, there were chickens in Pennsylvania working serious overtime.

Steph carried the gallon jugs of milk and orange juice to the table as Manny set down two plates with stacks of French toast and at least a half dozen sausages on the side. He pulled out a chair opposite her and laid his Glock .45 next to his plate, well within easy reach.

Her chair scraped across the ceramic tile on the floor, and Steph sat down slowly, watching the man she had once lied about being married to in order that he wouldn't be alone after getting shot by Scrog. It was a running joke with them and had been ever since that horrible day when Ranger was in hiding and couldn't be caught inside the hospital.

Manny had the same dusky skin tone as Ranger, but that was where the resemblance ended. His hair was always cut short, and it curled at the ends with a stubbornness that Steph understood completely. His dark eyes twinkled more often than not, and his ready smile flashed white teeth. That smile was often followed by an infectious chuckle that made her smile even when she had no clue what the joke was about.

When he glanced up from his food and caught her staring at him, the corners of his eyes crinkled. "Something wrong with the food, Bombshell?"

"Uh, no," she said, hastily dropping her eyes to her plate. "I was just—thinking."

"Well, that's encouraging," he said as he took a large swallow of orange juice.

Steph's eyes shot up to his face and widened. "What was that supposed to mean?"

The glass thumped quietly on the butcher-block tabletop. "Not an insult, wifey. It's just that I was stuck transporting a stupid criminal to Trenton General and then to the TPD while everyone else was either locking down the bonds office or protecting you and Ranger. Woody was in Boston training a new guy in apprehension and Zip had to take up the slack with our regular clients while Lester and Tank were busy. We want our crack at these guys and if you're thinking that means you're onto something and we'll get our chance."

Her jaw dropped as Manny calmly cut his sausages into precise bite-sized pieces and forked one into his mouth. He glanced at her as he chewed and swallowed. Setting down his utensils, Manny reached across the table and gently pushed her mouth closed.

"Eat, Steph," he said, picking up his fork again. "We're in a holding pattern right now, but we might have to jump at any moment if the bastards pick up our trail."

"How are they doing that?" she asked, obediently slathering butter between the slices of French toast. There were four different kinds of syrup set out and she hesitated before choosing the blueberry. The thick purple-blue syrup spread slowly over the toast and then paused on the golden crust for a split second before spilling over.

Steph blinked, realizing that she hadn't heard an answer to her question, and found that Manny was watching her with a grin that he tried to hide with little success behind his coffee cup.

"What?"

He shook his head. "If you ever looked at a man like you just looked at that food, he would be a complete goner."

She dropped her gaze to the French toast, where the syrup slowly soaked into the battered bread. Steph bit her lip, remembering her dream and that look she had thrown through the crowd, challenging Ranger. Her palms grew damp remembering his grin as he'd made that move towards her, and how the dream always ended before he reached her.

Much like her dream of having Ranger for real would always end before they got too close…

Manny's chair scraped across the floor as he got up, clearing his plate and glasses to the sideboard. The dishes clattered as he rinsed them off and put them in the dishwasher, then he came around the table and hoisted her out of her chair, wrapping her in a tight hug.

"I don't care if Ranger beats the shit out of me for stepping over the line," he said, his voice muffled in her hair. "I can't stand to see you so sad."

Her feet dangled a good two inches from the floor, and her ribs were in danger of cracking, but Steph didn't protest. It felt good to be held by strong arms, and some of the emptiness inside of her eased as Manny squeezed a little tighter then gently lowered her to the floor.

Steph's breath wheezed a bit, but she dredged up a smile as she pulled her chair back to the table and plopped down. "Thanks, Manny. I think I needed that hug."

"Yeah, well, I might need one myself after Ranger gets wind of it," he muttered, going back to the stove and plating up some more French toast and sausages.

"I won't tell," Steph promised, cutting a wedge-shaped piece from her stack.

"Won't matter. The man has ways of knowing that are downright spooky." He grinned at that, and Steph smiled at the hidden meaning. She'd often called Ranger a man of mystery when talking to Lula and Connie, and sometimes said it right to his face.

And then they would both laugh.

"Hey." Manny tapped the counter. "You went sad again. What's going through that head of yours?"

She shook her head and toyed with her food. "It's nothing. I just keep thinking about how none of this would be necessary if I hadn't been such a screw up. What if I didn't always catch the attention of the wrong people?"

"Did you catch the guy we sent you in after?" he asked seriously. "Did anybody on your team get hurt, either during the op or the extraction?"

"N-no." Steph very much wanted to squirm in her chair, but she didn't. Instead she kept her head down so she didn't have to see the disappointment in Manny's expression. "But Ranger is hurt. And Ram. And everybody is running around trying to keep me safe while cleaning up the mess I caused."

"You can't be sure the mess is your fault," said Ram from the doorway. His hair was mussed from sleeping and he hadn't shaved yet but he was dressed in the standard RangeMan uniform of black t-shirt and cargoes. As he walked into the kitchen, the weapons and handcuffs on his utility belt caught the morning light.

He took the plate Manny gave him and sat across from Steph. "I saw the team reports from Friday night. We had people in the club from the time the doors opened until they shut for three weeks before you went in. At no time did they see anyone connected enough to any organization capable of mounting this kind of a sustained attack."

Steph didn't have a reply. She knew her eyes were as wide as saucers, but she couldn't help it. This sounded so much bigger than she was used to, and the sinking feeling was back in her stomach, telling her as surely as a singing telegram from a giant rabbit that she'd really stepped in it this time.

"Eat," said Manny, pointing his spatula at her plate. "If you clean all of that up like the Bomber we know and love, I'll let you listen in to our morning check-in call with Lester. Deal?"

She picked up her fork with a noticeable lack of enthusiasm, but she was willing to do a lot worse than eating Manny's cooking to find out what was going on. Ram devoured his breakfast and hardly paused when Manny dumped the rest of the food from the frying pan and griddle onto the plate.

"Thanks, man," he mumbled around a mouthful of sausage. He pointed the tines of his fork at Steph. "I don't see you eating, Bombshell. Don't be thinking that just because I carried you in the house that I'm going to carry you out."

Manny slapped him upside the head. "You want Ranger to break your other hand?"

"Ow. I'd rather he break it than bite it." Ram rubbed the spot on his head and winked at Steph as soon as Manny's back was turned. "Although I'm guessing Bombshell could probably give us some info on whether or not he actually _does_ bite."

Her face went red hot and Steph put her head down, focusing on the food in front of her and trying not to think about all of the times that she had firsthand experience with Ranger's expertise. Her face stayed warm for far longer than the gentle jab warranted, but once again she was grateful that neither Ram nor Manny kept going. Lester would have, relying on the leeway granted by long acquaintance and many hours spent on stakeouts, but she could always count on one of the other members of the core team administering the same kind of head slap as Manny had.

Ram finished before she did and rinsed his dishes off, cleaning up after himself much as Manny had. Some unseen signal passed between them and Manny folded the dishtowel he'd been using to clean the counter and headed out to the garage. Ram puttered around the kitchen, wiping the grease off the griddle and washing the mixing bowl and cast iron fry pan. He dried the pan carefully with a towel and then rubbed cooking oil into it, handling it as carefully as he would handle cleaning his gun.

He set it aside on the counter next to the stove just as Manny came back in. Ram arched an eyebrow. "Still out there?"

"Yeah." Manny's expression bordered on cranky. "Damn it. I hope Lester has some leads on how these bastards are finding us so fast. There has to be a mole leaking information somewhere."

A shrug rippled Ram's t-shirt where it stretched tight across his shoulders. "Does he look like he's waiting for reinforcements? HQ gave us some other options both here and farther out if needed."

"Not yet." Manny pulled out his phone and dialed. The quiet b _rrt_ of the connection going through was plainly audible in the quiet kitchen; Steph finished the last piece of sausage and pushed her plate to the side as he switched his phone to speaker and laid it on the table between them. "I don't want to jump too early and let them know we can make them this fast."

"Santos." Lester's voice was rough, garbled by what sounded like too many cups of coffee and not enough sleep. "You're early."

"Got a situation developing," said Ram keeping his back to the table so he could watch the angles of the room that Manny couldn't. "Picked up a squatter outside halfway down the block. Been there since false dawn, just keeping an eye on us and not moving."

"Shit," said Lester. Papers rattled and Steph realized that he had them on speaker as well. "We were ahead of them for a while, but it looks like they pick us up once we stop moving."

"Want us to bolt?" Manny asked. "Steph has eaten and slept. We could be ready to move within minutes."

There was silence on the other end, a quiet that went on so long that Steph thought the connection had dropped. An electrical current spun across her bare skin, nipping and tingling in a way that made her jitter in her chair like a thousand tiny little bug feet crawled across her body.

Manny noticed her fidgeting first. He touched Ram's shoulder and nodded in her direction with an expression that was equal mixtures of resignation and frustration. Before Lester could come back on, they heard the front door rattle.

In a flash, Manny climbed over the table and grabbed Steph, lifting her under her arms and propelling her backwards. Ram swept the phone off the table, said two words in a different language and powered it off.

Both men snapped into bodyguard mode; they crowded close, protecting her with their bulk as Manny carried her backwards. A door opened behind her and they were suddenly inside a small room painted a neutral ecru with a deep utility sink, cupboards and a washer dryer combo.

Ram shut the door quietly behind them as crashes from the living room shook the entire house, guarding it as Manny carefully set Steph beside the sink. He crouched, laying his gun on the floor as he felt around the edges of the large corner ceramic tile. It gave under his fingers and he pulled it up to reveal a square, plywood lined hole with a ladder attached to the side. There was no light, and no way to tell how far down the ladder reached.

He held out his hand to Steph, plainly wanting her to go down that ladder into the bolt hole under the house. She shook her head, the old fear about enclosed spaces rearing its ugly head, but Manny didn't drop his hand. He just waited for her to make her final choice.

Just like Ranger, who rarely forced her, who gave her options and choices and let _her_ effort and willingness to work decide where she ended up. And if she fell short, he risked his own life to make sure she didn't get hurt.

A muffled gunshot echoed through the house and Steph grasped Manny's proffered hand. He guided her so she could set her feet on the ladder, then nodded, waiting for her to finish what she'd agreed to start.

Steph bit her lip. It was time to prove that she trusted Ranger and the men he trained that they wouldn't let anything hurt her. She might be scared, or tired or worried, but they would bring her through.

Steph bent her knee and lowered herself so her foot could find the next rung. Then she did it again, just as another, louder gunshot sounded overhead. Manny swung himself into the hole, blocking out most of the light, and she heard a word that made her heart pound.

" _Faster._ "


	8. Chapter 8

_All recognizable characters belong to Janet Evanovich. Completely Babe. Rated M for mature content, adult situations and language. Mistakes, illogical circumstances and unrepentant romantic encounters of the Ranger kind are entirely my fault. Places, names and procedures have been altered to fit the story. I have no medical, law enforcement or military experience, so all mistakes are mine. My deepest thanks to everyone who has read this story and those who have taken the time to review._

The smell of underground—earth and moist and stale—filled Steph's nostrils as she clambered down the simple iron bar ladder. Her hands were clammy and wet, her heart beating rapidly, and the breakfast that had been so wonderful to eat sat like lead weights in the pit of her stomach.

The dim light went pitch dark as Ram stuffed himself into the hole above them. The sound of tile grating on stone filled the dim air and Manny's foot nearly came down on her fingers, reminding Steph that she was supposed to be going down, not sitting on a rung with her mouth hanging open and her mind blank.

As they descended, cacophony of the destruction above them grew fainter. Both Manny and Ram were breathing hard, and the confined space grew warm from the adrenaline-charged bodies crammed into it. Then Steph's next step down met with earth and she realized that she had finally found the bottom of the bolt hole.

Blindly, she reached out to find the wall and followed it away from the ladder to give the two Merry Men room to join her. Steph frowned as the hand she held in front of her encountered only empty air, and the other one on the earthen wall kept going. Then Manny and Ram reached the bottom as well, filling up the space, and both she and her claustrophobia was infinitely grateful this was more than just a hole in the ground.

"This way," said Ram, squeezing past her to take the lead. He wrapped his fingers around her wrist, gentling his touch when she flinched, and slid along her skin until he found her hand. Squeezing her fingers lightly to reassure her, he tugged her forward with Manny in the rear, still crowded close.

The ceiling angled downward, low enough that both men crouched to avoid hitting their heads. Steph ducked down when something brushed the top of her head. It made walking difficult and her back and leg muscles went past screaming to dull whimpers by the time Ram slowed and stopped.

"We're here," he said, so soft that it barely carried back to her.

"Where is here?" asked Steph. She'd lost track of how far down they'd climbed on the ladder, and the passageway hadn't turned sharply as far as she could tell.

Ram blew out a breath. "Tunnel. It comes up in the house next door. If we have to hunker down, there's a safe room built into the foundation that can be reached from here. Tank supervised the construction last year."

He glanced at Manny. "Check the outside cameras."

Manny dug out his phone, swearing a little in the dark. As light flashed on his face, Steph slid a hand into her front pocket and gripped the smooth edges of Ranger's phone. It was a tangible link to him, and trapped underground during the rampage of a homicidal maniac with anger management issues, Steph needed every little bit of reassurance she could get.

A very satisfied sound came from behind her and Steph twisted so she could see Manny better. He noticed her watching and winked, his smile completely without the tension that would mean he was worried at the moment.

"Hector and Woody just arrived. They parked our ride in the alley behind the middle house in the block. Hector has the bastard's car open and is searching it." Manny winced. "Hope that guy has good replacement insurance."

Ram chuckled softly. "What are the odds running at now that Hector's coming with us?"

"Three to two." Manny swiped through the camera feeds. "Guy's coming out. Should be just a few more minutes before he's tagged and bagged."

Curiosity got the better of her, and Steph squeezed around in the tight space so she could see Manny's phone. He obligingly tipped it towards her while Ram kept his back to them so the light wouldn't destroy his night vision.

The camera feed flipped through a variety of angles. She could plainly see the back door of the house they had been in, with a tiny brick patio and empty flower beds. The side lawns were perfectly manicured between the house and the privacy fence and the front walk—

Steph slapped a hand over her mouth to muffle her gasp. Hector knelt with his knee in the small of a larger man's back on the front sidewalk. There was a splotch of blood next to the man's head and he wasn't struggling at all; she couldn't tell if he'd given up, was unconscious or dead.

"Not dead," whispered Manny. "Hector's been working on some medium range shit that takes 'em down before they even know you're there. Pure poetry."

Working quickly, Hector zip tied the man's hands behind his back and bound his ankles together before flipping him over with a particular disinterest as to whether he landed softly. Steph winced as his head bounced a couple of times on the pavers, but that was as far as her empathy extended. She didn't forget that this was someone who hunted them with the intent to kill whoever got in the way.

 _I'm not forgiving him for Ranger's injuries. Or Lula's, either._

Hector searched the man with frightening thoroughness, pausing only once to say something to him in a low voice. The prisoner thrashed around frantically, only to freeze when the former gang member slid a wicked looking dagger out of a boot sheath.

"Must have just told him who he was dealing with," said Manny, a hint of laughter under his words.

"Shit," Ram said, still not turning around. "Glad the poor bastard's not riding with us."

"Got that right."

The camera flipped again, this time to inside the front room. Broken furniture and shredded cushions littered the floor. Shattered glass sparkled on the maple hardwood underneath the jagged holes punched into the drywall.

Steph barely had time to suck in a breath at the damage before the next view in the rotation came up. The kitchen had fared even worse. The table was in pieces, the butcher block surface splintered and broken. The entire contents of the refrigerator littered the floor and the shelves hung askew, the light blinking on and off slowly. The stove had been yanked out of the center island, the pipes broken and jagged. The island counter tilted crazily as the splintered cabinets underneath shifted to hold the weight, and the sunlight sparkled on the copper bottom pots hanging overhead as well as the single frying pan still perched unharmed near where the stove had been.

"Wait," she said as the view changed again. "Go back, go back!"

Fumbling the phone in his haste, Manny somehow got the video loop paused and then reversed to the kitchen view again. Steph stood on tiptoe, her nose almost to the screen as she stared at the wreckage for whatever had caught her attention. As her gaze swung towards the island, the last support underneath the counter buckled and the clean cast iron frying pan started a slow and inexorable slide towards the protruding pipes.

" _Gas!"_

That was all Steph could get out before Ram grabbed her around the waist and took off. Manny swore and followed, fumbling with his phone and stabbing at the screen. Ranger's phone went off with a tone alert at the same time as Ram's, loud enough that Steph wanted to put her hands over her ears to muffle it. Ram bounced off a wall and spun, using the momentum to crash through an opening closed off by a cheap vinyl accordion door.

Steph felt herself falling. She hit and rolled awkwardly, the breath squeezing out of her as Ram slammed down on top of her. There was only a second to glimpse the screened porch with peeling linoleum, old double hung windows and a wooden three panel door with a dingy cloth curtain drawn over its filmed-over window.

Her heartbeat pounded in the silence. _Once…twice…_

The gas blew with a thunderous roar, ripping plywood and insulation to shreds with the force of the blast. The windows in the screened porch shattered, the shards cascading downward with a crystal-edged shriek. Steph ducked instinctively and Ram gathered her arms and legs underneath him, taking the brunt of the debris. The blast stole the breath from her lungs, squeezing her in a giant hand until her mind started to fade out.

It was hard to determine exactly when the explosion ended and the ringing in her ears faded. All that she was aware of was debris shifting and falling, some of it around her and Ram, and an unnatural silence. The faint wail of sirens grew louder and an incessant crackling filled the little room.

Then Ram moved, brushing insulation off her and shouldering aside the plywood and drywall piled on top of them. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I think so." She shook her head to clear it and immediately grabbed it with both hands. "Owww. What did I hit?"

He grimaced. "What didn't you hit? That was a pretty powerful blast."

Steph blinked and looked harder at the Merry Man. A large gash on his forehead bled freely, dripping blood into his eyebrow and down the side of his face. Red splotches on his face, neck and arms showed where he'd been pelted by debris.

"Manny?"

"Right here, wifey." He pushed aside the debris in the tunnel, shaking dirt and other fragments out of his dark hair. "EMS should be here soon. We'll need to leave before they cordon off the area and turn us into sitting ducks."

Ram held his hand out to Steph and easily pulled her upright. "Sitting ducks _again_. Hopefully Hector will get something out of our little friend before we have to hand him over to the police."

 _Staying_ upright proved to be a little harder than Steph wanted to admit. She swayed dangerously, and Ram hoisted her up and carried her through what was left of the three-paneled wood door.

"I can—"

"Graciously allow me to carry you without having to listen to any whining," said Ram as he stepped over the twisted rain gutter on the back step. "Let's pick up the pace and get to the truck."

"Hector and Woody are reporting clear with the perp," Manny said as he jogged beside them. He had cuts and red splotches that were harder to see against his darker skin, but he was also favoring his left knee.

 _How many more times am I going to be responsible—_

She twisted suddenly, and Ram cursed as he tried to keep her still. "Bomber, I can't—"

"Are there any other people in these houses?" she asked frantically. "Oh, God, what if there were children at home with their parents?"

Her mind was filled with pictures of broken bodies lying in the debris. More casualties, more injuries, more blood that was the result of her screw up in New York. The crackle of the burning natural gas grew louder and she struggled to break free of Ram's hold and get back to the people who couldn't wait for the fire department to get there.

"Stay still, Steph," Ram said, tightening his hold as she continued to fight. "That tone sent an automatic alert to the local EMS with the street address and any cautions. RangeMan chose this area because the houses around here are mostly vacant during the day and we can move more freely without having to wait until night time."

"No kids?"

He smiled at her and shook his head. "EMS will check the entire neighborhood. The only ones that might have been here were on the corner across the street, and she takes them to the park four blocks away this time of the morning."

"You're sure?" Steph searched his hazel eyes and didn't see any hint that he was trying to protect her.

"Scout's honor, Bombshell," he said. "We know what we're doing is dangerous. Our insurance policy will cover any damage to the neighborhood and RangeMan will probably make a donation to the park for play equipment and ball fields by the time this is all over."

"Thank you," she whispered. "I know I don't say it enough, but you guys are the best."

"Now you're making me blush, Bombshell." Ram laughed at that, his amusement rumbling through his chest.

The truck came into view and all thoughts of laughing disappeared. If Hector's Pinto had been an anemic little roller skate, this was an old man's favorite truck that couldn't help but show its age. The dark green older model crew cab with a contractor's kit installed in the long box was where its respectability ended. Dark brown-red splotches spattered the door panels above the rusted running board and around the silver gas cap on the side. The silver trim was bent and missing in big chunks, and there were actual side vents on the front windows.

"Manny," said Ram, "check it out. We can't be too careful."

His partner nodded and crawled under the truck, checking everything for God only knew what. Ram leaned his shoulder against the side of the house, using the corner to partially shield himself and Steph in case Manny happened to trigger something. The sirens raced past on the front street, converging on the destroyed safe house. She could hear the shouts as the police and fire department set up a perimeter.

"Ram," Steph said, "can you tell me what's really going on? All Ranger had time to tell me at the bonds office was that it was two gangs. But then the nurse at the hospital and the guy who broke in _aren't_ gang members Am I nuts or is this bigger than Ranger thought?"

He shifted her a little in his arms. "Bombshell, everyone thought it was a small-time player who had more money than sense. The way the info flowed, he was throwing money around Stark to locate you for a snatch-and-run. Ranger and Tank were down there all weekend not only beating the bushes for more information on this guy, but also reminding everyone who might be tempted by the payday that it was a very bad idea."

"I'm surprised anyone could forget."

"Memories can be short on the street, especially when the bad guys are peeling off Benjamins," he said, watching as Manny slid out from under the truck and started inspecting the box. "Bomber, we're probably going to have to keep moving until Ranger is ready to be released from the hospital. That may be a few days yet. Are you up to it?"

"What other options are there?" Steph sucked in a breath even as she said it. One of the many new bruises burned through the abused muscles in her back, twisting into a knot that would take a lot of work to loosen.

Ram shrugged, not an easy thing to do without dropping her. "Plan B. It's set up so you can relax in a safe house somewhere tropical near a beach. Everyone knows you love the warmth and the beach, but the place isn't easy to get to without being seen, and we wouldn't need more than two teams."

"Miami?" she asked, thinking about the RangeMan office there and the protection Ranger already had on his biological daughter.

"Nope. Farther south and not in a direct line." He grinned at her frustrated growl. "You're not getting more out of me. That option is a damn good one, and Ranger has another one that would only be put into effect if something happens to him. Both are strictly _no blabbing_. If we have to move you to either, we can't have rumors floating out there about the location."

Manny called them before she could make an issue out of it, and as Ram carried her quickly across the open space, Steph admitted to herself that some of her friends were well known for not only catching the latest gossip but for sometimes _starting_ the latest gossip. And it wouldn't take a trained police detective like Morelli to figure out why an exotic location was linked with her name.

Especially not if Ranger was involved.

"Last chance, Bomber," said Ram as he lowered her onto the back bench seat. Manny covered her with another Kevlar blanket and she winced as the weight settled on the deeper bruises populating her back and side. "Do we stay with the current plan or do we tell Lester to switch it up?"

"Where is Ranger going? 'Cause that's where I'm going to be," she said. "No second thoughts, either, so you can tell Lester or Tank or Bobby or whoever that I'm not changing my mind."

Ram grinned at her. "That's my girl. Didn't think you'd change it."

He shut the door and climbed behind the wheel. As the engine coughed like an old man in the morning, Manny got in the other side in the front. The door shut with quiet finality and Steph took a deep breath to steel herself for what was coming next.

Ram rolled the truck forward, letting the engine warm up before asking it for speed. The tires bumped over the ruts and potholes, jouncing the occupants painfully as the truck negotiated the curb and the gutter before turning right. It picked up speed, heading farther away from what had been a very nice safe house.

 _Had been._ It certainly wasn't much more than a pile of rubble now.

 _I wonder if Ranger is quite as forgiving about blowing up his safe houses as he is with his Porsches._

Manny's phone rang and Steph's hands clenched, wondering if it meant more bad news. _Maybe something happened to Ranger. Maybe—_

"Some cuts and bruises. Bombshell was farther from the explosion but had a rough trip getting there." Silence while Manny listened. "You sure about that? Okay. You're the boss right now. We'll be there in fifteen."

He hung up and reholstered the phone. Silence stretched too long, and Steph was ready to throw the blanket off and demand answers when Ram stepped up for her.

"What's Santos having us do now? Drive to Hawaii?"

"God, no." Manny shifted in his seat. "Brown's getting antsy. Ranger's not coming around like he should be according to the tests, and he thinks someone is spiking the IV. So Cal and Binkie are meeting up with Hector and Woody to take charge of the prisoner and then those two are heading to the hospital as the inside team. Operation Fisher Cat is officially a go in six hours. Brown thinks it will take that long for any cocktail to work its way out of Ranger's system so he can be moved."

Steph clawed back the heavy blanket, ignoring the pain in her arms and back as the movement jarred them. "Where are we going now? To Ranger?"

"Get back under the blanket," said Ram, glancing in the rear-view mirror. "Our asses won't be worth nothing if you get hurt because we didn't follow procedure."

She scowled but flipped the blanket back over herself. "It's not like I can help it. The frying pan was _not_ my fault."

"Ouch," he said, "point taken. Just try not to tell Ranger about that one until he's in a good mood. A _really_ good mood, if you know what I mean."

Her fingers itched to throw a Jersey salute at him just on principal, but Steph was still very much aware that both of them had injuries they were currently ignoring because of her. She folded her fingers tightly beneath her thumb and tried to think, but the warmth of the blanket enveloped her, and the adrenaline drained out of her until she floated down into an exhaustion-fueled slumber.

Just as she was drifting off, she heard Manny speaking again. "Santos found one of the leaks. Someone inside feeding—"

 _When she opened her eyes, it was to the warm, humid darkness of a summer night. The breeze drifting through her open window smelled of Trenton in hot weather—scorched pavement, car oil and human sweat. A siren sped by, the strobes splashing bright colors against the far wall of her bedroom._

 _Even before she moved, Steph knew he was there. Power hummed in the heavy air, an electricity that spun and danced invisible between them. It pulled her towards him even as he resisted and sought to stay too far away._

" _Babe, got a job for you."_

 _Steph raised herself on her elbow, the thin percale sheet sliding down her bare arm to pool in the curve of her waist. She knew her hair was tumbling around her head; the beating it took from the Jersey weather this time of year always brought its rebellious side out, but at—she checked her bedside clock—two o'clock in the middle of the night, she wasn't going to worry about how she looked._

 _Break into her bedroom, Batman or no, and that was the price to be paid._

 _Trenton's version of the Dark Knight sat in the worn upholstered armchair in the corner of her room. Most of the time it served as a convenient place to throw her clothes, but ever since Ranger chose it as his spot, Steph had been a little more careful about hanging them up._

 _She grinned. One of these nights she'd leave one of her Victoria's Secret pieces draped demurely over the arm of that chair, and let Ranger figure out what he wanted to do about it._

" _I'm not sure I like the looks of that grin," he said, his voice soft. "Care to share what's so funny?"_

 _Steph shook her head. "No. Just thinking. What are you thinking for this job?"_

" _Need you to catch a guy's eye in a night club in New York. Exclusive, upper echelon clientele. Some designer drugs, some hooking up, but he has a taste for the exotic and the unattainable." Ranger got up, crossing the distance between them in two long strides, and tossed the file on the bed beside her. "He's wanted on both state and federal. The capture is worth four million to RangeMan."_

 _Careful not to let the sheet slip too far down so he could see all of the clothes she wasn't wearing, Steph hitched herself around until she was sitting with her back to the headboard and her knees drawn up so she could read the file easily by the light coming in the window. True to form, Ranger stayed by her bedside, half in shadow, his expression blank and unreadable as she shuffled through the research._

" _Wouldn't you be better off getting someone else?" she asked, her attention mostly on the words in front of her. "I don't think I would qualify as exotic."_

" _Don't sell yourself short." Ranger lowered himself to the edge of the mattress, and Steph swallowed hard as she caught his scent. Some men could barely perspire and no one would go downwind of them. But Ranger…she inhaled deeply, trying to disguise it as a calming breath when she knew damn well it was because she couldn't get enough of the scent that was uniquely him. If he wanted exotic and unattainable, he had plenty of experience right at his fingertips._

 _Ranger leaned forward, bracing himself with his hands placed flat to the mattress on either side of her leg and breathed in._

" _What are you doing?" Steph asked, and his grin flashed brilliant in the darkness._

" _Reminding myself how exotic and unattainable you are, Babe."_

 _If she let the file slip through her fingers, leaning forward just a little, Steph knew she could place a soft kiss on his lips, and then he would take control of it. She would be close enough to run her fingers through the fine hair at the back of his neck, tracing the line of his jaw until she could cradle his head in her fingers, and sink into that kiss until there was no more room for thinking at all._

 _It wouldn't matter, though. Eventually Ranger would ease away, increasing the distance until the connection that bound them together broke. Then he would touch her lips with the tip of his finger, and tell her to sleep well with pleasant dreams._

" _Babe—"_

"Bombshell?"

Steph jerked awake and immediately regretted the sudden movement. The muscles in her neck and upper back had congealed, and the slightest movement sent bolts of agony shooting down her spine through her lower back, knees and straight out her toes. _That_ triggered a cramp in her instep, one that threatened to pull her second toe almost completely forward at a ninety-degree angle to the top of her foot.

Working the cramp out made for an intense few minutes. Then the Kevlar blanket slid off, revealing an outside that had changed drastically. Gone were the old growth trees and restored historical one family homes. In their place were brightly colored stucco and brick buildings with clashing awnings and wide sidewalks populated with pedestrians of many different ethnicities.

"Where are we?" she asked, squeezing her eyes tight for a moment, and letting the tears wash out the prickly sharp grit glued to her eyelashes. Steph blinked and shook her head slightly, glad at least that the worst of the pain seemed to subside the more she moved around.

Ram pulled the truck into a parking spot and Manny was the first one out. He opened the back door and rested his foot on the running board. "We're taking a detour before we go up to the hospital. The people tracking us are looking for a curly-haired brunette. So we're going to change that."

Steph blinked, craning her neck to see the sign on the two-story yellow brick building behind him. Her eyes widened fractionally.

"I'm wearing a wig?"

"Not quite," he said, holding out a hand to her. "Lester thought a change in color for starters. The salon owner has done some work for us in the past. She's discreet and even better, she's good."

After her last attempt to go platinum blonde, Steph wasn't quit as confident as Manny, but if it confused the people chasing them, then she was all for it. She dredged up a smile from somewhere and slid her hand into his.

"All right, I can give it a whirl and see if it works. But if I have to chop off my hair because it doesn't like what you're doing to it, there _will_ be payback."

He grinned as he held her steady, the muscles in his forearm tensing as she leaned on him. "If this doesn't work, going with a flat top will be the least of your worries."

Hardly reassuring, but given that she had already seen two explosions and more gunfights, Steph was willing to go with it. Just as her feet touched the sidewalk, a bolt of pain shot through her back and shoulders straight into her head. Everything tilted dangerously and she clutched at Manny's forearm as she tried desperately to not black out.

He guided her to sit on the running board and pressed his warm hand against the back of her neck. "Put your head down and push up, Bombshell. I shouldn't have let you move so fast."

"Not that," Steph said, gritting her teeth as the position put even more stress on her back. "Let me up. My back—"

Before she finished the sentence, Manny swung her up in his arms and carried her into the Isles of Greece Salon and Spa. A pleasant bell chime announced their arrival and a tall, slim woman with dusky skin and kohl-lined eyes hurried into the reception area. Steph caught a glimpse of a magenta artist's smock and black yoga pants, but her attention was completely caught by the woman's hair. Blonde strands intermingled with brunette and red, braided and looped in a complex style that paid homage to her ancestral roots while celebrating her skill.

The salon owner pulled up short when she saw Steph. "You didn't tell me that you haven't given the poor girl a chance to even clean up! Manuel and Ramsay, I am tempted to give you a piece of my mind."

Manny laughed and set Steph down in one of the chairs. "Feel free, my dear Eirene. Every bit of it would be deserved."

" _Men!"_

Eirene made it sound like both a commentary on the two Merry Men and an opinion of the gender at large, but that was where she left it as Steph listed badly to her right. The salon owner crouched by the chair.

"Manuel, help me get her to the back room. She needs a lot more than a cut and color."

"Yes ma'am," he said, and once again hoisted Steph easily into his arms. They wove between empty stylist stations and the plastic bins of chemicals and rollers to a room sectioned off from the rest of it by folding louvered doors. Here was a coffee machine sitting on the laminate counter of a mini kitchen, a couple overstuffed chairs, a bistro table and another door that led into a darkened half bath. The back door was windowless and secured with a floor bolt and an industrial-sized lock.

Manny set her down gently onto one of the overstuffed chairs. Eirene shooed him out of the room and closed the louvered doors behind him. "Can you manage in the shower?"

Steph blinked, trying to get the world to stop tilting around her. "I think so. But Manny and Ram—"

"Will be fine in the front. I don't open for business until noon, and I do not have appointments until two today." Eirene poured coffee into a large soup mug. "Take this in the bathroom with you. One of my stylists is about your size; she keeps a change of clothes here in case she splashes dye on herself. I'll leave it by the door while you shower."

Wrapping Steph's fingers around the mug, the salon owner helped her up and then guided her into the bathroom. Before Steph could do more than look around, Eirene had the towels laid out and the door shut behind her.

The small bathroom was eons away from the one she'd used just a few hours ago. Steph allowed herself a moment to regret the tub she hadn't taken for a test drive, and the beautiful kitchen that was completely destroyed. The mug _clinked_ against the porcelain sink as she placed it on the washstand, and Steph set about the task of divesting herself of the dirty and torn t-shirt and jeans.

The shower sent clouds of steam billowing through the little bathroom, and Steph wiped the mirror off with the edge of the shirt, staring at the woman reflected in the silver surface. Bruised…bleeding…battered. The only thing that had remained constant was the weariness in those blue eyes and the slump of her shoulders as the people chasing after them hit again and again.

 _This has to end sometime. It has to._


	9. Chapter 9

_All recognizable characters belong to Janet Evanovich. Completely Babe. Rated M for mature content, adult situations and language. Mistakes, illogical circumstances and unrepentant romantic encounters of the Ranger kind are entirely my fault. Places, names and procedures have been altered to fit the story. I have no medical, law enforcement or military experience, so all mistakes are mine. My deepest thanks to everyone who has read this story and those who have taken the time to review as guests._

Two hours later, fortified by the shower, a sandwich from the deli down the block and a large Boston Crème from a neighborhood bakery, Steph sat in Eirene's stylist chair with the brunette color bleached out of her hair and the natural curl completely straightened. Her pale locks were currently encased in plastic as they processed for the second time that would give her a more natural blonde color.

Manny and Ram had been busy while Eirene worked on her. They'd taken turns in the shower, cleaning up the dried blood and scratches and swapping out their torn and dirty clothes for clean ones from the ubiquitous duffel bag stashed in the contractor's box in the bed of the truck. The truck had also been moved into the back alley, away from casual observers and hopefully anyone who might be looking for them.

The mirror caught movement in the front of the salon, and Steph tensed. Eirene put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"They've been pacing and talking on the phone for the last hour. Don't worry, Steph. I've seen these guys in action and they know what they're doing."

Manny paused in the doorway, shooting a glance at Steph and then abruptly turning back to the front. That was enough for Steph. She met Eirene's gaze in the mirror.

"We need to rinse this out right now," she said. "All of it."

"But you still need to process for—"

" _Now._ "

She had no idea where that tone of voice came from. It wasn't her mother's _you're in trouble now_ and it definitely wasn't Ranger's _feel free to die of fright_ , but it was scary nonetheless. Even better, it produced the desired results. Eirene hesitated for only a moment before she yanked the utility cart closer to the chair and started stripping the plastic off Steph's hair.

"This is going to look like shit, I hope you know," she growled, "and I don't want you to breathe a _word_ to anyone that I let you out of my salon looking like this. If I get wind that you're blabbing my business to the street, I _will hunt you down_. Got it?"

"Perfectly," said Steph. She thought about doing the scout's honor, but given the speed with which the papers were coming off, she wasn't sure there would be enough time. Eirene tossed the last one in the bucket and spun her around.

If there was nothing else that Steph could attest to, it was that the stylist was a consummate professional. She had Steph's hair rinsed thoroughly and dried within minutes. By the time Ram and Manny strode into the room with the hurried air of men not yet panicking, Steph was on her feet.

And yanked backwards by the neck as Eirene grabbed hold of the drape and ripped the closures open. " _Now_ you can go. And remember your freakin' promise."

"I will!" Steph squeaked as Manny picked her up and rushed her towards the back. "Guys, what's the rush?"

Ram drew his main gun from the holster and checked the clip. "Lester broke our inside leak. We think we know how far out they know our next moves, and they've had enough lead time to place assets to take out both teams."

He snatched a hoodie from the hook by the back door and shoved it towards her. Steph struggled with it for a moment, then managed to get it on, zipped up and with the hood over her head to conceal her new look. Manny cracked the door and listened, his own gun held ready. Then he opened the door a little wider.

"Looks clear."

"Go fast. Doors are unlocked. Hit the back seat and get down on the floor." Ram positioned himself behind her and to the right so he could provide cover. "If I don't make it to the other side of the car, go. Don't stop, don't come back for me. Got it?"

"But—" Steph started to protest, but he pointed a finger at her and she subsided, although with the grumpy glare that told him she would be willing to take it out of his hide if he sacrificed himself so she and Manny could get away. Then a truly evil thought occurred to her and she grinned.

"I don't like that grin," he said, although the brave man that he was, he didn't back down.

Steph winked. "I won't take it out of your hide, if you try sacrificing yourself for us. I will let my _grandmother_ take it out of your hide. Over and over and…"

Both men shuddered at that one. Grandma Mazur's quick hands and avid interest were legendary among the Merry Men; more than once Ranger opted to hand out discipline for infractions that involved escorting Grandma around town instead of meeting him on the mats.

Most of the Merry Men feared Ranger less than they feared Steph's grandmother. And that was saying a lot, especially when Ranger had a super-pissed mode that was downright terrifying. But at least in Ranger's case, a reasonably aware person would know he was in a dangerous mood and avoid him. With her grandmother, they never knew when or were she would strike, and that freaked them out more often than not.

"Let's go," said Manny, and Steph didn't even have time to squeak before Ram picked her up bodily and rushed her to the car. She was hoisted into the back seat, covered once again with the Kevlar blanket, and the door shut firmly behind her.

The alley remained quiet as Ram jogged around to the other side and climbed in. The truck's engine purred as they left the shelter of the buildings and merged into the street, heading away from Eirene's salon as quickly as possible. Ram turned halfway in his seat, watching the street behind them for any sign of an attack on the building they'd just left.

It wasn't until Manny turned a couple blocks down that Ram let out a deep breath that might have been relief. "Nothing. Either they're getting wise to how much dust they're kicking up when they do that, or the leak Lester plugged was their only conduit of information."

"So what's next?" Steph stayed under the blanket, even though it was stifling between the hoodie and the smell of chemicals clinging to her hair. "Another safe house?"

"Not quite," said Ram. He flipped back a corner of the blanket, and she could see him scanning the area around them while Manny drove with a tight-lipped concentration. "There was an incident at the hospital with the extra team inside. The nurse freaked out when she came in the room, not expecting more than Bobby, and Hector was able to take away the syringe she was going to inject into Ranger's IV."

Cold fear sliced through Steph, and she automatically started to sit up. Ram gently pushed her back down.

"Relax, Bomber. He's fine. But Bobby consulted with the hospitalist, and he's cautiously optimistic that they can move Ranger safely. So we're going to meet them at an airfield and get a few thousand miles between the bad guys and us."

Steph chewed on that for a few moments, trying to wrap her head around it. "A few thousand? As in out of the country?"

"To start with." He grinned at her, knowing that she was still thinking about the warm place that he had mentioned earlier in the day.

 _Before everything started blowing up again._

"I don't have a passport."

"Yes, you do," he said, as he popped open the center console and fished out something that _looked_ like a government passport. "You're cleared to exit the country and enter any others we made need to visit at any time. Except for a few places that I would not recommend without a heavy escort and a lot of money to keep local officials happy, if you know what I mean."

Steph settled herself back on the cushion. "I just want to be wherever you're taking Ranger. As long as I can see that he's all right, I don't care if you stick us in a shack in the middle of nowhere."

"Well, you guessed one part right," muttered Manny as he checked his mirrors and merged into the shortest line for the toll gate on the Turnpike.

"Shack or middle of nowhere?" she asked, but neither one would answer her. They were quiet as Manny navigated through the line, and that left Steph with more time to think about where all of this would end up. She wanted to make good on her promise to Bobby—and her commitment to Ranger. It would have been very easy for them to ship her off to a safe house by herself, no muss no fuss. But the Merry Men had placed themselves bodily between her and the danger too many times already. The least she could do was stay with them, and do whatever she could to help.

And every time Steph remembered how much Ranger had paid in blood and money to keep her safe, her heart hurt with a sharp pain that felt like a knife being twisted in the center of her chest.

The tires hummed smoothly underneath her ear as she lay on the back seat, a jarring counterpoint to the way her thoughts jumped around. They kept circling back to the next few hours, the next transfer and the next explosion or gunfight.

"See 'em?" Manny said quietly, and Steph went still.

Ram shifted in the front seat. "Yeah, they're about three cars back. I'll call this into Santos. Maybe he can scramble someone to come up on them from behind."

There was a moment of silence, then the sound of the hands free cell connecting.

"Santos."

"Got company on the turnpike. Must've had scouts eyeballing the main routes." Ram's voice didn't betray any worry, just an edge that could have been irritation. "Any assets in our vicinity?"

"God damn it, these fuckers are starting to get on my nerves," said Lester, "and I've had it with their shit. Tank might have better ideas, but I'm going to make these bastards wish they'd never been born as soon as I get my hands wrapped around their fucking scrawny necks."

"I'll take that as a _no_ ," Ram said drily. "Any suggestions, or should we make it up as we go along?"

"Not with Steph in the car." Lester's voice held an uncharacteristic sharpness. "Don't engage. Keep ahead of them and if you see an opportunity to ditch them, do it. And for God's sake, don't get caught with your pants around your ankles and your naked ass hanging in the wind. The last thing I need is having to extricate Steph from state police custody."

He hung up with saying goodbye, a standard RangeMan phone procedure that was comforting in its normalcy.

"I'm getting off at the next exit," said Manny. "Something doesn't feel right."

"Do what you gotta do," Ram said, sliding his weapon out and checking the clip. He kept his hands below window level, always aware that it would only take one alert motorist to call it in to get them truly in trouble. "Bomber, you doing okay?"

Steph rolled her shoulders, trying to work out the kinks from sitting in the salon chair for so long. A glance at the clock on the SUV's front console told her that they were nearing mid afternoon, and the traffic was picking up accordingly. Philadelphia had a healthy rush hour, and that meant more people on the road. People who were innocent in this whole mess, and people who were either driving their kids or were hurrying home to their families.

"I'm okay. But we need to stop these guys," she said, completely understanding Lester's sentiment. "They attacked us in both New Jersey and Pennsylvania. Doesn't that mean the FBI would get involved?"

"FBI for sure," Ram said as he rested his gun between his leg and the console so it was hidden from a casual glance into the passenger compartment. "If Tank's still in D.C. wrangling with bureaucrats, that could mean the FBI, State Department or NSA. Hell, it could even mean the Pentagon. All depends on if we're dealing with home grown problems or foreign."

 _That_ was one thing that Steph hadn't considered. She knew that there had been foreign nationals at the club; some of the women she'd seen on the dance floor were exotic looking in a sultry, graceful way she never could have matched without a lot of hard work.

Steph grimaced. She _had_ worked hard, hard enough to sweat and lose weight and exercise while researching the mark and sitting in on apprehension meetings where they went over the latest intel on the skip. She tilted her head back, staring at the blue sky outside the window as she struggled to recall some of what she'd heard.

"If they are foreign nationals, what are we supposed to do?" Steph flicked her eyes to Ram's, hoping to see absolute confidence and calm there. "I mean, we can't just cuff them and drop them off at the police station. There's probably more forms and then more departments, and—"

"Depends on who they are, Steph," he said again, adding a shrug. "If they are legitimately in the country on business or study, then we'll have to let the State Department or Homeland Security fight over jurisdiction. If they are using a cover so they can break law or wreak havoc, or if they are from Ranger's past, then intelligence and military will be fighting for right of disposal as well."

Ram blew out a breath and the side of his mouth quirked up. "Believe me when I say some of those arguments have been memorable."

"Yeah, well, I don't think—"

The back window of the truck blew out with sudden force, showering Steph with shards of broken glass. She yelped and ducked underneath the Kevlar blanket as Manny jerked the truck into the left lane and stomped on the gas. The sudden acceleration threw her against the back of the seat and she felt the sting of the sharp pieces digging onto her skin.

Ram unbuckled his seat belt and half turned in his seat, putting his back to the front windshield so he could see the parts of the road Manny couldn't. His free hand held his phone as he punched in numbers with his thumb.

"Patch me through to Hal." He rested the phone on his leg, switching it over to speaker.

"Team Four here."

"Hal, we've got active shooting. We're on the Turnpike but Manny's going to hunt for an exit that won't leave us too vulnerable. What's your ETA?"

There was faint talking in the background for a moment, and Steph was able to pick out Hector's voice as well as Junior and Bobby. Then Hal came back on the line.

"They're unhooking him now. He's not all the way awake, so Bobby had to call in some more favors. We'll be in the air in thirty, and at the rendezvous point within two hours. Think you can make it?"

The passenger side mirror cracked and everyone inside of the truck instinctively ducked. Manny swerved, scraping the side of the truck on the concrete barrier. He corrected as the back end slewed, then straightened out and sped up until he wove through cars like the last lap of the Daytona 500.

"Hal, they're getting braver. Any ideas?"

"You tried Lester?"

Ram laughed, a rich, deep sound that didn't belong in the middle of a high-speed chase on a turnpike nearing rush hour. It sent a thrill up Steph's spine as adrenaline spiked her heart rate.

"Santos told us not to leave our asses hanging out in the wind," he said. "Not exactly helpful."

Hal was silent for a moment, and Steph strained her ears to make sense of the background noises. She made out Bobby's voice, quiet yet authoritative, and a female barking out orders like a drill sergeant.

"I'm putting Hector on the line. He's got family in the area and might have a couple of ideas."

"Tell him to hurry," said Manny. He was starting to sweat, the beads of perspiration forming on his dusky skin. "We're going to run into a slow down any minute."

"Hola."

Manny switched over to Spanish, no doubt explaining where they were and what he had in mind. Hector listened even as the noise behind him grew louder, then he answered in the same language. As Steph tried to pick out familiar words, she made a mental note that if there was enough time in the safe house she would ask Hector to teach her Spanish.

 _Ranger would probably teach you,_ a little voice whispered in the back of her head, and she fought down the hot flash as she remembered exactly when Ranger liked to switch to Spanish. It wasn't in the heat of battle, but it certainly was when her temperature neared scorching.

The phone conversation ended when Ram scooped up his phone and held it out to Steph. "Bomber, someone wants to talk to you."

Her hand shook when she took the phone from him, and she steadied it against the seat as she propped herself up and took it off speaker. "Hello?"

"Hey, Steph," said Bobby. His voice was much more upbeat than she had heard it since this all began, and that alone eased the worry gnawing at her. "How are you doing, sweetie?"

"Good," she answered, surprised when she realized it was actually true. They were still in danger of being shot on the Pennsylvania Turnpike or involved in a high-speed crash, but knowing that the minutes were getting fewer before she saw Ranger again buoyed her like nothing else could. "I ate and had time to shower at the salon."

"I heard you went straight and blonde. Can't wait to see Ranger's reaction when he sees you."

Even though Bobby's tone was teasing, Steph's hand went automatically to her hair, touching it for reassurance. "He's seen me blonde before. It wasn't my best look, though. I had to run out of the salon after a skip before Mr. Alexander finished."

Steph saw the smirk on Ram's face at that reminder, but she couldn't reach him to punch him in the shoulder for laughing. So she settled for a death glare and a silent promise that she would punch him the next time she had room for a good swing.

To his credit, Bobby didn't laugh. "You look fine. Manny snapped some pictures so I could show them to Ranger when he was awake."

Her heart beat a little faster, pounding like it wanted to jump out of her chest. "He's awake?"

"Off and on. I think we're definitely on the upward trend." Bobby turned serious. "I'm more interested in you at the moment, Steph. How are you feeling? Any soreness? Fever? Are the abrasions puffy or red or tender?"

"Uh, no, I'm good," she said quickly, even as the hand that had been on her hair touched the scrape on her cheek. The side of her face throbbed, but Steph gritted her teeth and pushed the pain away. She was _fine_ , damn it. Ranger was the only one who mattered.

Bobby waited a beat too long, and Steph hastened to assure him. "I'm fine, just a little sore, and that will go away soon enough. No bullet holes, no broken bones—"

Manny swerved hard, a heart-stopping maneuver at high speed that dragged a squeal from the abused tires. Steph froze, waiting for the moment of weightlessness that always preceded a crash, but when the wheels stayed on the ground and the truck upright, she let go of the breath she'd been holding.

"You still with me?" Bobby asked. "Steph?"

"Still here," she managed to gasp out as more centrifugal force pushed against her. "Manny's trying to lose the guys behind us. It's a little…bumpy and—"

She broke off again as the grating of rumble strips rolled underneath the speeding truck. Horns joined in, coming from all sides, punctuated by the more terrifying blast of a semi.

"Bobby, I'll call you back," Steph said quickly, and hung up. She thought about giving Ram his phone back, but a glance into the front seat showed both him and Manny engrossed in evading the pursuit car. Ram had strapped back in, so she pocketed the phone next to Ranger's and pulled her knees up on the bench seat under the blanket and pulled the seat belt across her body.

It was hard to match the end of the buckle to its mate, especially as the truck jounced around hard enough to throw her against the front seat. Steph dragged herself back into the seat and tried again; a triumphant sound escaped her as the belt clicked home. That triumph lasted all of two seconds until Manny swore and her stomach dropped to her shoes as the truck went airborne.

Steph's eyes closed and she tried to pray, but the only thought running through her head was _please let me see Ranger again. Please…_

The truck jolted, metal crunching with an ear-rending screech like talons across the smooth, chalky surface of a blackboard. Steph bounced hard, ricocheting into the door with her shoulder and the other side of her face. A sharp pain echoed through her skull as everything went ominously still.

It took two tries to get her belt unbuckled. She scrabbled at the Kevlar blanket wrapped too tightly around her, then it gave a little and Steph yanked on it until she could pull herself free. Her head popped out of the folds just as Manny spoke in a rough voice.

"Damn it, the son of a bitch was right."

Steph blinked, trying to process everything that her eyes were seeing. Large cracks ran like spiderwebs across the front windshield, the facets of the deep cracks glittering like sea glass in the sun. The side windows weren't in much better shape, and she could feel a breeze on the back of her neck through the demolished back window.

Ram turned in his seat to check her and Steph bit back a gasp at the blood trickling down the side of his face from the re-opened gash in his forehead. He shook his head, silently telling her not to make an issue of it, and held out his hand.

It took her a couple of seconds before she realized what he wanted. Digging into her hoodie, she pulled out the two phones and gave Ram his.

"Sorry," she said, surprised at how scratchy her voice sounded. "What happened?"

Manny cautiously eased the truck away from their landing point, driving through a patch of tall weeds that scratched and thumped against the battered vehicle's sides and undercarriage. The hum of traffic on the turnpike was loud as he guided the truck onto a two-track path that ran parallel to the flow of traffic. Then they heard the sound of sirens, and Manny coaxed more speed out of the much-abused engine.

Ram glanced out the remains of the back window, his eyes sweeping the ridge line and guard rail above them for any sign that either the bad guys or the police had caught sight of them. Minutes passed, and Steph scrunched into the corner, hardly daring to breathe, waiting.

The path turned left, ducking under the bridge and changing into a pitted, cracked two lane pavement road with no shoulder but a strip of pale gravel. Mature oak and maple trees crowded closer to the road than the buildings had in inner city Philadelphia, their still green-ladened branches cascading over the road.

"What just happened?" Steph asked again, whispering as if anything louder would alert their pursuers.

Manny looked at her in the rear-view mirror. A cut on the point of his chin dripped blood onto his cargoes, but once again Ranger's choice of black on black for his company uniform concealed everything except a damp spot. There was another cut at his hair line above his right ear, and he swayed a little in his seat.

"Hector," he said. "He told me there was a way off the turnpike that some of the gang runners used to evade the tolls. They don't anymore because the highway department changed the angle of the embankment and the barriers. Hector wasn't sure if we'd be able to make it all the way without rolling."

" _You mean we could have rolled?"_

Steph didn't know if she whispered the question or shrieked it; the idea that a Merry Man would be crazy enough to try something this outrageous shook her down to her core.

He didn't look at her, opting for the safer course of keeping his eyes on the road. Ram reached back and pulled the Kevlar half over her head again, giving her a strained smile as he did so.

Since his partner didn't want to answer, it left Ram to try to explain. "Bomber, we've all had advanced driving technique trainings. Sometimes as a bodyguard you have to do some pretty hairy things to get a client out of a bad situation. Manny's had the courses. If anyone can position a car for off-road and not roll it, it's him."

"Would you have done the same thing?" Steph asked as her heart still tried to climb out of her throat. While she and Lula had pulled some stupid stunts as bounty hunters, she didn't think they'd ever _deliberately_ done something like this. Of course with her luck and cars, some things that happened defied the laws of physics and nature without any input from her whatsoever.

Ram grimaced, obviously trying to find an answer that might placate her. His phone buzzed with an incoming message and his face settled into a heavy frown as he read it.

"Well, shit," he said. "This isn't good."

"What?" Steph asked, distracted from her next question about fines for evading tolls.

"Tank got the info," said Ram. "It's not one person after us. It's three different international smuggling rings, and indications are two cartels are showing an interest now that they know Ranger's out of commission."

"We're fucked," Manny said, and Steph couldn't find any reason to disagree with him. Out of all the scenarios she might have guessed for this whole fiasco, having not one but a whole lot of bad guys from different parts of the world after them wasn't even in the running.

She hunched down a little more in the seat, pulling the Kevlar even closer. "So what do we do now—give up?"

"Nope." Ram's expression turned to one that poured cold ice water down her spine. "When the enemy is pushing you back until you hit a wall, you do what's unexpected, you do it hard, you do it fast, and you hit him with everything you've got so he's bleeding out before he realizes he lost."

Steph blinked a couple of times, tried to tell herself that she was as crazed as they were, but that didn't keep the answering smile from turning up the corners of her mouth. Her heart was still beating hard enough that she could feel it in her chest, she was still scared and she still wanted Ranger with a desperation that was frightening. But in this moment all she could think about was how badly these people had underestimated Ranger and his men.

She settled into her seat. "I'm in. Just let me know when the ass-kicking is about to begin."

Now if only she could persuade the guys to stop for some donuts before the action began…


	10. Chapter 10

_All recognizable characters belong to Janet Evanovich. Completely Babe. Rated M for mature content, adult situations and language. Mistakes, illogical circumstances and unrepentant romantic encounters of the Ranger kind are entirely my fault. Places, names and procedures have been altered to fit the story. I have no medical, law enforcement or military experience, so all mistakes are mine. My deepest thanks to everyone who has read this story and those who have taken the time to review as guests._

Steph huddled underneath the Kevlar blanket on the back seat of the battered crew cab truck, her legs tucked underneath her as she happily munched on the last Boston Crème. The bag of fried fat and sugar goodness had magically appeared under the edge of the blanket after they stopped at a convenience store slash gas station to top off the gas tank. Neither Ram or Manny admitted to who exactly was responsible for the contraband, but since neither one took her up on the offer of sharing the rolls, Steph wasn't going to rat them out.

Popping the last piece into her mouth, Steph savored the mixture of firm dough and creamy filling, chewing it slowly with the care of someone who didn't know when her next one was going to be. So far the Merry Men had been stubbornly close mouthed about where they were headed next, and whether or not she would need her passport. Instead, they'd conversed in low voices as Manny drove through residential streets and empty gravel roads with only dry grass in the ditches to wave as they went by.

A bottle of water appeared under the edge of the blanket. "Want to wash those down, Bomber?"

"Thanks," she said, taking the bottle from Ram and twisting the cap off. "Is it safe for me to come out yet?"

There was a pause as she drank, no doubt due to the their doing the silent ESP thing, debating whether or not they'd lost the pursuit or were in danger of picking up more. Just as she put the cap back on the bottle, the blanket lifted and fresh air billowed underneath it.

The world outside the broken windows of the truck wasn't the same. Sometime between the gas station and now, Manny had left behind the semi-urban environment around the turnpike and found the rural country. The sun slanted in the west, gilding the trees and the sky in red gold. Windbreaks and farmland with an occasional barn and house were about the only things the sun found to touch. There were no other cars on the road, and the wind through the back window had a lonely sound to it.

Steph scooted up so she could rest her arms on the back of the front seat, away from that wind and the chill it raised against her skin. "Where are we?"

"Not Kansas," Ram drawled, "so your little dog is safe."

She gasped and the Merry Men went instantly on alert. "Rex! How could I have forgotten Rex? Oh my God, my poor baby! What—"

Manny laughed, a rich, hearty sound that boomed through the cab. "Ella, Bomber. As soon as the dust settled, she packed your clothes and took the little guy back to Haywood. She also called your family and explained that you would be out of touch for a while on RangeMan business."

"Oh, thank God," said Steph, slouching down. "Except for the part about calling my mom. I'm pretty sure my cell phone is blowing up."

Ram patted her arm. "Hector can switch your number over to Ranger's phone, once we're in the air. Then you can call your family and let them know what's going on. We'll have Hector route it through some of his proxies so it can't be traced back to our location."

"Oh, that's something I'll look forward to," Steph said glumly, slouching a little more. If she called her mother, that meant she had to call Joe, and she was pretty sure neither of those conversations was going to be productive _or_ enjoyable. Given the amount of destruction left in her wake, she was also _really_ sure that the police station had finally run out of money in the perpetual betting pool due to all the payouts.

Ram shifted in his seat, glancing down when his phone buzzed. "We'll back you up, Bomber. And if your mom needs a note from Uncle Sam, I think we can swing that, too."

"I hope Ella has a good recipe for pineapple upside down cake, 'cause my mom is going to cut me off for the rest of my life." Steph sighed, not the long-suffering sound of a daughter who couldn't measure up to her mother's standards, but the resigned sound of a woman who'd made some hard choices in life.

And would do it all over again, just the same way.

Manny glanced at his partner. "They shake free yet?"

"Yeah," Ram said, reading off the screen. From where she was sitting, Steph could see the message block but not the words. "Brown is riding lights and sirens and the chase cars peeled off to see if anyone would bite. So far they've taken out three, but there's always the chance more are waiting to pick them up later in the route."

"Cops get the assholes shooting at us?"

He shook his head. "Nothing yet, but Lester has Vince reaching out to his contacts with the state police. Kind of giving them a head's up that this is part of the same case as Trenton so they aren't thinking they're dealing with the start of a turf war or mass killing."

Steph shivered, cold with the thought of what it would be like if the explosions and shootings had happened in the heart of the Burg instead of on the edges where Vinnie's office had been. The cold become a frozen hand wrapped around her heart as she realized that the damage might not have been confined to just the bail bond office.

"Did—were there any other people hurt when they hit the office?"

The guys exchanged another glance, and Steph's shoulders squared. "Other than Lula and Connie. Were there other people— _innocent bystanders_ —who were hurt?"

"No, Steph," said Manny seriously. The cut on his scalp had quit bleeding, and the heavy red line showed plainly through his short dark hair. "There were minor injuries after the fact to people not obeying the police or fire department, but nothing major."

She chewed on that information for a moment, her mind going over both the explosion from the street and the encounter in the parking lot with the young gang member. A frown creased her forehead as Steph replayed it, trying to piece together both the direct confrontation as well as the twin shots that had taken him down. Steph opened her mouth to ask a question, then stopped and shut it again.

"Something bothering you?" Ram asked.

Steph shook her head. "Maybe. I don't know. I think I need to sit down and sketch out what I remember, so I don't forget the important details. I'm sure the police will need my statement for the investigation into the gangs, right?'

"Sure, Steph," said Ram, agreeing too quickly by half. Her frown deepened, but when he looked over his shoulder at her, she smoothed it out and gave him a faint smile. Her spidey sense was going into overdrive again, and she put aside the recent past in favor of making it through the next hour and reaching Ranger.

 _No doubt once he's up and about, the bad guys will remember that it's not healthy to go up against RangeMan. We should be back home within the week, tops._

Ram's phone buzzed and he checked it again, his breath hissing out as he read the message. "They're in the air. Brown estimates about forty minutes to the next stop. Are we still in the window?"

"Ten minutes inside," said Manny, checking his watch. "I figure we're about thirty from the airfield."

"Got it." Ram punched that information into the phone and waited until the reply came back. "Okay, Steph. We have the go from Brown. We're going to quit driving around in circles and start heading north towards a small airfield. The runway is big enough for the jet and we can use the hangar to park the cars."

"So what do I need to do?" Steph asked. After the hours of letting Ranger and the Merry Men take the lead, it was a relief to be able to do something more than cower and wait. She wanted to do more, and even though her injuries still hurt every time she moved, she was ready.

"Follow our lead," said Manny.

Ram pocketed his phone and hooked an arm over the back of the seat. "What he means to say is that we'll plan to pull into the airfield just as the jet touches down. We'll meet it near the hangar, park the truck and board. Once everyone is set, we'll take off again."

"Simple as that," Steph said as she brushed some crumbs off her t-shirt and wished that she had time to shower, brush her teeth and change. No doubt Ranger wouldn't notice that she was looking the worse for wear, but it was a point of pride that she didn't have to look like a _complete_ disaster.

"It should be," Ram said in agreement. He tugged on one of her straightened blonde locks. "Relax. There will be plenty of room for all of us and the flight crew is the best Bobby can hire. We should be at our destination within twenty-four hours, so by this time tomorrow you'll be snuggling down into a real bed."

She thought about her own bed, getting farther and farther away, and then put it out of her mind.

 _I would sleep out in the woods on the cold ground if it meant Ranger was getting better. Hell, I'd volunteer to stay at a place with no running water if that was what it took._

"Can't ask for more than a good memory foam mattress and luxury sheets," she said, giving Ram an impish grin that probably looked more Bride of Frankenstein than Shirley Temple. "You guys ready to tell me where we're going, or does it still need to be a surprise? 'Cause I promise, I can act surprised if I have to."

"Sorry, can't. Only the core team can reveal the location, and only when at least two agree on the necessity," said Ram. "So you'll have to wait until we get on the jet. Then if Ranger is awake, he can be the second one and Bobby can tell you. No backing out though, right?"

"No backing out," she said, agreeing with both the words and the sentiment. Ranger and his men didn't drop her in the middle of a mess, and she wasn't going to fail them. Not for the first time, she wondered what a bunch of ex-military, scarily experienced guys were doing with an ex-lingerie buyer trying to do a job she wasn't qualified for. But even on her worst days, she was grateful that they honored her with their friendship as completely as they had.

Ram tweaked her hair again and turned back in his seat. He reached underneath it, muttering under his breath when whatever he was looking for seemed to be wedged. Finally he pulled out a flat black hard case with a numerical lock on it. Using his fingernail, Ram spun the cylinders until the last one clicked into place and the latch opened.

The inside of it was black foam, the kind Steph had seen often in Hector's workroom back on Haywood. Most of the time he kept security systems and other delicate electronic gadgets in the form-fitting cushions. Once or twice, Steph remembered him closing a case on his workbench when she ventured into his inner sanctum, along with a shake of his head that indicated she wasn't supposed to see what he was working on.

Ram wasn't as shy about cracking the case and showing her exactly what was nestled into the different slots. They were black, but in the evening light Steph could at least make out the earpieces and throat mikes that the backup teams wore outside the building when she was doing a distraction. While Steph usually wore a wire only because the earpiece was too obvious, she'd seen them often enough to know what they were.

A hot flash went through her as she remembered the one time she'd been feeling playful after Ranger drove her home from a distraction a few months ago. Once he parked by the door in her lot, Steph surprised him by climbing over the center console of his Porsche. Ever quick to react, Ranger immediately moved his seat back to give her room for whatever she chose to do. Bracing her hands on his broad shoulders as her knees nestled on either side of his legs, she helpfully removed his earpiece and mike.

With her teeth.

And at least three detours before she finished the job. _Completely._

Wisely, Ram chose to ignore her blush and concentrated instead on fishing the miniaturized electronics out of their case. He offered them to her in the palm of his hand, waiting until Steph picked them up before going back for Manny's.

Steph held the pieces up close, squinting a little as she tried to figure out which ear it was supposed to go in. The guys always wore them left, but she didn't know if that was because they were made to go in the left or because the right was the dominant ear.

"Left, Bomber," Ram said, handing Manny's equipment to him while he drove. "Mike goes against your larynx."

Steph adjusted it accordingly, then threaded the connecting cord underneath her shirt and bra to hold it in place. That left the question of what it was going to plug into.

"Hand me Ranger's phone for a minute," said Ram, and she dug it out of the hoodie pocket.

He checked the battery power on it and then punched in the password suspiciously fast. As his large fingers danced over the touch screen, Steph leaned forward over the seat again.

"Does everybody but me know what Ranger's password is?"

"I don't know it," said Manny, "but I could probably figure it out given enough time."

Her eyes swung to Ram and he coughed into his hand, trying to hide the smile threatening to break out. "I knew it was either your birthday or your measurements, and Ranger isn't the kind of man who needs to remind himself of those last numbers."

There wasn't anything she could say to that, so Steph sat back again as Ram finished up with the phone. He handed it over the seat, his gaze swinging out the broken back window and sticking to a point directly behind them.

"Someone back there?" Steph asked, twisting around to see.

"Get down," said Ram, and she ducked immediately, burrowing under the Kevlar blanket with the speed of someone who had done this way too many times in the last four days.

Lying on the seat, Steph fumbled with the end of the cord and plugged it into the jack of Ranger's smart phone. Static crackled in her ear, then cleared as she heard voices she didn't recognize coming across the channel.

"Chase 1 coming in. ETA five minutes. No hostiles."

"Chase 3 peeling off. Can't shake the two on our tail. Heading back to Philly for reinforcements."

Then Manny's voice double echoed, once in her earpiece and the other time in the cab. "Chase 9 wired and online. Heading back to Trenton to lay low. Going to ground at Level 1 safe house with all systems engaged. Will switch cars at service plaza on expressway."

The truck kept going, bumping over the gravel road and kicking up a reasonable amount of dust behind it. Steph peered underneath the edge of the blanket, listening and keeping herself quiet, watching Ram scan the horizon behind them as Manny rested a hand on the top of the steering wheel and kept driving in the same direction.

Hector's voice came over the channel. As usual he was talking faster than she could follow, but she didn't miss the fist bump between Manny and Ram in the front seat.

Carefully, she unhooked the cord from the phone so she wouldn't interrupt Hector. "What's going on? I'm not going back to Trenton."

"No, you're not. And we're not." Manny glanced in the rear-view mirror. "Even though we know who was leaking our inside info, we still need to start peeling off the ground troops after us here. So we're using a compromised frequency to move them into place for our teams to take them out."

"How many of them are out there?"

He shrugged. "Hopefully not so many that I have to use all of the ammo in my clips to get you guys on the jet."

The truck went silent again, and Steph plugged her earpiece back into the phone so she could hear the rest, settling beneath the Kevlar blanket even as her heart rate sped up again.

The communication channel went quiet as well, with only an occasional transmission from what sounded like the pilot of the jet. Most of the chatter was in terms she didn't understand, but it was comforting to know that she was closer to seeing Ranger again, and it would be only a few minutes before they would be taking off into the darkening night sky for an unknown destination.

The truck slowed, but Steph resisted the urge to sit up. She stayed still, her fingers clenched tight, the adrenaline coursing through her body. Manny turned to the left and rolled to a stop.

Steph tensed. The wind had strengthened even more as the sun went down, whispering through the broken back window and curling colder tendrils under the edge of the blanket. Clad still in the jeans and the hoodie borrowed from Eirene's salon, she shivered and hugged herself a little tighter to stay warm.

"Hola," said Manny, and Steph held her breath, listening and waiting.

"Hola," came Hector's voice from outside the truck. The vehicle dipped a little, accompanied by a soft thud in the bed of the truck. Then she heard Woody's distinctive laugh and the truck dipped again. Rustling and the chime of broken glass was followed by a whispered curse from Woody as Manny started the truck rolling forward again.

"Estefania?"

She lifted the corner of the blanket, just enough that she could turn her head and see the back window. A dark shape silhouetted against the sky reached through the broken glass and she hissed, about to warn Hector about the shards that hadn't fallen out yet. He paused, then used his elbow to knock them into the bed. His hand came through the window, reaching out to her for reassurance.

Steph took his hand without hesitation, feeling in the way he wrapped his fingers around hers all of the worry and concern that Hector couldn't tell her in a language she understood. She squeezed back, trying to put all of the reassurance that she could into the motion.

Another shadow blocked the rest of the back window. "You okay, darlin'? These jokers taking good care of you?"

"The safe house wasn't my fault," she said. "Manny was looking at the same feed I was. The frying pan fell off the counter and ignited the gas."

Woody laughed softly. "Frying pan? Do I want to know?"

"It was cast iron," Manny said over his shoulder. "I made breakfast."

The amusement cut off abruptly. There was a moment of silence before Woody broke it, his voice strangely hoarse.

"Pancakes?"

"French toast," said Ram with definite relish in his voice.

The groans from both Woody and Hector were the heartfelt sounds of men who knew exactly what they had missed. A little imp of the perverse prompted Steph to grin even though they couldn't see it and squeeze Hector's hand before releasing it.

"It was _really_ good," she said, "with blueberry syrup and _real_ sausage."

"That's cruel, Bombshell," Woody said. "Now I'll have that stuck in my brain."

Hector reached back and slapped him across the back of his head. He said something in Spanish that had both Ram and Manny laughing, and even though she didn't understand the words, Steph understood the gesture. She'd seen it used on Lester way too many times. Knowing Woody and how much time he'd spent with Ranger's cousin, the sharp slap probably wouldn't work.

Ram touched his index finger to his earpiece. "Got another one. The fucker tried to run Tank off the road."

"Tank?" This time Steph did pop up, only to be pushed back down by both Hector and Woody. She didn't struggle, but she did grab the edge of the Kevlar blanket so they couldn't smother her in it. "When did Tank get back?"

"Around noon," Ram said, "after he put some things into motion in D.C. and called in some favors. The guys working chase are under contract to RangeMan, but most of them were hand picked from people we've worked with before. Their handlers gave them emergency leave so they could hunt down these bastards. Those in the country legally will be turned over to the FBI. The ones in violation of their visas or here without prior clearance will disappear until they give up their employers."

"Good," Steph muttered as she settled on the seat. There were some scraping sounds in the bed as Hector and Woody made themselves comfortable amongst the glass shards and broken plastic from the bed liner. Neither one complained, at least not out loud, and Manny waited until they were settled before pushing the truck a little faster.

Even though she couldn't see anything from her position on the back seat, Steph could still hear, both through the earpiece and her other ear. Soft sounds, identifiable as Woody and Hector reloading their personal firearms and Ram following suit in the front seat, drifted to her on the cooling air.

Then she heard the most welcome sound in the world: the faint growl of a small jet that grew steadily louder.

Ram stuck his head out the window, searching the sky for the navigation lights. Manny flicked off both the headlights and the dashboard lights so they were riding in darkness broken only by the faint sunset glow still visible on the horizon. Steph concentrated on breathing deeply, relaxing her muscles as she prepared for the chaos that would no doubt erupt soon enough.

"Got it?" Manny asked.

"Yep, got it. Looks like Brown hit the jackpot." Ram started laughing softly. "He's coming in hot like this is Baghdad International. Better get yourself into position or you'll be playing catch up."

"No way." The cushion sighed as Manny shifted his weight. "Damn. I thought he'd circle at least once on his way in."

"Doesn't look like it. Can you get more speed out of this junk heap?"

The engine whined as Manny pushed it harder. "I'm gonna have to, unless you learned how to run faster."

Steph's hand crept underneath the seat again, her fingers wrapping around the steel frame where it bolted to the floor. She didn't think belting in would be necessary; with Hector and Woody riding unprotected in the bed, Manny wasn't likely to go off any embankments again.

"Okay, he's on approach," Ram said. "Woody, Hector, head's up. The pilot said he spotted two vehicles waiting near the end of the runway with their lights off. Could be nothing or it could be more of our fan club. We might have to exit quick."

Her heart pounded in her chest at that, so hard that Steph pressed the heel of her free hand against her rib cage to keep the traitorous organ inside. She could hear the transmissions on the channel through her earpiece, but the words weren't registering in her brain. All she could think of was Ranger and Bobby and the other RangeMen in the jet descending out of the sky, and the enemies who waited like wolves in the night, gathered for the attack.

The channel in her ear burst into a babble of voices. She gripped the seat frame as the truck sped up and threw her in three directions at once as it bumped across the airfield. Both Woody and Hector were swearing as they tried to hold on without exposing themselves above the edge of the bed, and Manny cursed in the front seat as he tried to get into position before the incoming jet landed.

"Ram! You take Bomber and get her on that jet." Manny's voice broke through the chaos. "Hector, Woody—when I slow down, bail. Cover Ram until Steph is on board, then get your tails up those stairs. You hear me?"

Steph clawed back the blanket, moving before she could think twice about the wisdom of doing it. Her only thought was to get to Manny and shake some sense into him, or at least make it clear that she was not going to let him carry through with his plan to the fiery end.

"Steph, get down!"

"No!" She clamped down on his shoulder, her fingers digging into the tendons hard enough to make him wince. "You do _not_ get to sacrifice yourself. No heroics, Manuel Ramos, or I swear I will turn that jet around myself and beat you into a pulp."

"Steph, sweetie—"

She leaned in close, her teeth bared like a tigress in full fury. "You promise me _right now_ , Manny. Promise me you'll be on the jet when it takes off."

He didn't answer right away, turning his head just a little to meet her furious gaze. His eyes flicked towards Ram, and Steph held up a finger in that direction, warning the other Merry Man that she wasn't going to take any manhandling sitting down.

Manny sighed. "Fine, Steph. I promise that I'll do everything possible to be on that jet with you. Okay?"

"I'm holding you to that," she said, settling back into her seat. "Don't think I won't."

"New plan," he said, wisely not trying to argue further with her. "Ram, same thing. Get her on board no matter how you have to do it. Woody, Hector, get out as soon as I slow down to let Ram out. I'll rig something and bail halfway down the runway."

It was a horrible plan, with too many variables that could go wrong. But Manny was already aiming the truck at a chain link fence. The fence wrapped around the front end as it tore loose from the posts, slapping against the sides and throwing up sparks on the pavement. The truck lifted and the tires bumped hard over the fence. Then they were free and Manny spun the steering wheel as the truck dove for the shadows between two hangars.

"That's our cue, Bombshell." Ram reached into the back seat and wrapped a large hand around her upper arm. "Stick close to me and don't argue."

"Wait a minute. This isn't—"

Steph stifled a shriek of surprise as he easily lifted her out of the back seat and over the front ones. Her legs tangled in the Kevlar blanket and she kicked at it, trying to push the heavy weight away. Light flashed into the cab as they passed the front of the hangars, and Steph struggled harder until she was free.

Ram settled her in the seat next to him, his seat belt off and his other hand resting on the door handle. The strobe lights along the runway flared into life, stabbing at the darkness as a shadow dropped down with red and green fire marking its edges.

A movement behind her caught Steph's attention. She half-turned just in time to see Hector slither through the back window. He shook his head when she opened her mouth to say something and she closed it again without speaking. If he had decided he was helping Manny, then she wasn't going to point it out while Manny had time to object.

Her skin crawled between her shoulder blades, stronger than the tingle at the back of her neck and stronger than her spidey sense. Steph turned her head towards the window and froze, watching as the shadow became a sleek grey jet larger than she thought possible, its wing tip too close to the truck as it settled onto the ground.

" _Go!_ Go go go go!"

Manny hit the brakes hard, and Ram was already opening the door and hauling Steph out with him. Her knee cracked against the frame and she yelped, but there wasn't time to worry about it. He slid his arm around her waist, keeping her feet off the ground as he sprinted towards where the jet slowed and turned towards them.

The engines reversed, the whine of the turbines deafening. Steph couldn't think, couldn't breathe, could only hang helplessly from Ram's arms and pray. He ducked under the wing, the dark edge sweeping by too close overhead as the hatch in the side swung away from the jet to become the steps.

Hal filled the open hatch with his muscular frame, one beefy hand clenched around the edge as he reached out with the other. The wind from the engines rippled his t-shirt as he leaned dangerously forward to close the distance between Steph and safety.

Without warning, Ram gathered himself. Between one stride and the next, he shifted Steph's weight and flung her across the gap. One moment she was wrapped up in his arms, the next she was airborne. Her lungs and heart seized, and Steph didn't even have time for one horrified shriek before she landed.

Hard.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 10

 _All recognizable characters belong to Janet Evanovich. Completely Babe. Rated M for mature content, adult situations and language. Mistakes, illogical circumstances and unrepentant romantic encounters of the Ranger kind are entirely my fault. Places, names and procedures have been altered to fit the story. I have no medical, law enforcement or military experience, so all mistakes are mine. My deepest thanks to everyone who has read this story and those who have taken the time to review as guests._

Steph's world narrowed. Smooth metal peppered with raised bumps slid under her fingers, each inch marked by the fiery pain of her nails breaking as she scrabbled for purchase. The jet engines roared in her ears as her fingers slipped even more. Then a bright pain shot through her foot as it scraped on the tarmac, and the terror of being dragged under the wheels lent her new strength.

Hal's massive hand was bare inches from her arm. Her foot hit the tarmac again and Steph gritted her teeth, shoving the pain to the side, as she concentrated on the edge of the step just above her head. Sheer stubbornness gave her more strength as she fought against the forces dragging her off the stairs.

Suddenly Hal lunged forward, grabbing her under the arms and easily lifting her into the air. He wrapped her up in a bone-cracking hug, one hand protecting her head as she passed through the door before he deposited her into Bobby's waiting arms. The RangeMan medic held her tightly for a moment, as if to reassure himself that she was in one piece, then Hal shouted something into the wind and he picked her up bodily and carried her to the back of the jet. Before Steph could collect her wits, she was lowered into a backwards-facing seat and belted in.

Bobby went back to the front, bracing himself against the ceiling as the jet continued its turn and the engines roared louder. Steph concentrated on breathing, glancing down at her hands to see blood seeping from underneath her fingernails and new scrapes and bruises already showing angry against her fair skin.

Her seat vibrated, a short, sharp movement that wasn't caused by the jet or by the Merry Men, even though she could hear Hal hauling Ram and Woody on board.

The seat vibrated again, and she twisted around as far as the restraints would allow her and peered over the top of the seat.

 _Ranger_.

Dark eyes zeroed in on her face. He was strapped into a stretcher directly behind her seat, his neck and sides braced with rolled up blankets so he couldn't move very much, but his gaze and the force behind it more than made up for any lack of mobility.

"Ranger," she whispered, knowing full well there was no way he could hear her over the noise of the engines and the guys. A smile stirred his lips, the faintest ghost of a movement that told her everything would be fine, no matter how many bad guys gathered to stop them.

Ram and Woody squeezed by the stretcher, edging sideways so they wouldn't jostle it. They strapped themselves in the two outer seats in the back, leaving the middle one empty. Both men were breathing hard, the sharp odor of sweat noticeable in the cool cabin air.

Steph didn't want to turn back around; she wanted to unbuckle her restraints and kneel next to Ranger, holding onto his hand like a lifeline, but the pilot was revving the engines and she didn't know if that was for take off or—

"Manny and Hector!" she said, looking at Ram.

"They're coming," he said, crowding himself against the bulkhead as Bobby settled between him and Woody. "Hal's going to catch, but it might be a little bumpy until we get in the air. If you hear me say _get down_ , I want you to lean forward and put your head on your knees, okay? Cover your head with your arms and don't pop up until I say so."

"But—" Steph broke off as her chair vibrated again. Her eyes narrowed, but she shut her mouth and shifted so her butt was square in the seat and her feet flat on the carpeted floor. She glanced at Bobby, who gave her a quick wink as he rummaged through a medical kit he held on his lap.

The jet shuddered once and Hal yelled something. She desperately wanted to turn around, to do something other than sit helplessly, but none of the men in the back moved out of their seats, even though their muscles were tense and they watched the activity in the front with intent, unwavering stares. A _thump_ shook the deck under her feet, followed by another one, and the air pressure in the cabin changed as the sound of the engines grew quiet.

Hector slid into the backward facing seat across the aisle from Steph, his chest heaving as he gulped in air. He fumbled with the seatbelt, swearing when his left hand refused to hold onto the buckle. Ram unsnapped his restraints and did up Hector's before wedging himself back into his seat.

The jet swung around in a tight circle, the engines whining as it accelerated. Steph glanced out the round window beside her, trying to gauge where they were in relation to the end of the runway where the two cars waited, when light flashed bright and orange in the darkness. The aircraft shuddered and then it tilted sharply as it leaped away from the earth. Her seatbelt dug into her sore shoulder and stomach as her weight dragged her towards the back.

They were climbing vertically, then a giant invisible hand shook the entire jet. Steph clung to the arms of her seat as her sight faded. Her head bounced off the back of her seat, hard enough to make her ears ring, then everything went dark.

Voices were the first thing she heard, familiar deep voices speaking with an unhurried quiet that made her smile. Steph turned her cheek into softness, rubbing her nose back and forth against it as she sighed happily.

"Steph, sweetie. C'mon, open those eyes for me."

A frown wrinkled her forehead. That voice sounded familiar… _Bobby_? But that didn't explain…

Steph pried one eyelid open, squinting a little at light bright enough to drive a spike right through her skull. She shut it just as quickly, instinctively turning away before the hands cradling her face held her still.

"Steph, take it easy. You managed to give yourself a pretty good knock on the head." Bobby probed her temple and stopped when she winced. "Yeah, I thought so. Sorry about that, sweetie. This was the last thing you needed."

"Report."

 _That_ voice was softer than she'd ever heard it, but it carried enough power to jolt her back into awareness. Steph started to sit up—headache and eyes be damned—only to be stopped cold again by Bobby.

"Don't move," he said softly. "I have to see if you fractured your skull or anything else. The last thing I need is to replace Ranger with you on that stretcher."

"I'm fine, Bobby. I just have a little headache."

"Open your eyes and keep them open, and I might believe you." He carefully took his hands away and Steph couldn't help the wince as her head tilted painfully to the right. "That's what I thought. Hector, get me the small cervical collar."

"I'm fi—"

"Tell me once more you're fine and I'll pot your ass right next to Ranger. And then he can glare at _you_."

Bobby rarely lost his good humor, and when he started to get snippy, even Steph knew to shut up and leave well enough alone. She met Ram's eyes as he sat scrunched into the back seat with Woody and Hal, and he smiled slightly and shook his head.

Her sigh was small enough that the RangeMan medic couldn't take issue with it. "I'm sorry. I'll behave."

"Just until I can get you fixed up. Then you can sit by Ranger and tell _him_ to behave." Bobby took the collar from Hector and fastened it around Steph's neck. "We'll keep this on until we land, then I'll have them run a CT and the tests you should have had done in Philly."

Steph adjusted her chin, not quite comfortable with how the collar stretched her sore neck but also willing to admit that her head didn't hurt quite as much. Bobby flashed a penlight in her eyes, his expression grim as she winced away from it at first. Then he wanted her to follow his fingers as they went left-right and up-down, and Steph clamped down on her impatience and obediently went through the paces.

When he finally sat back on his heels, she couldn't tell if he was satisfied or worried. Bobby pursed his lips, glancing down at his open kit and poking around it for a moment as he thought. Since the compartments he was fiddling with included some seriously large curved needles and syringes, Steph firmly believed that she was allowed to be nervous.

"Uh, Bobby? Am I okay?"

He glanced up. "What? Sorry. Just trying to figure out how we're going to work this. I don't think you're in grave danger right now, but we aren't leaving the next point until I have CT scans and bloodwork. On both of you."

Bobby shuffled back on his knees, crowding the three large men behind him. He shut his med kit and slid it towards Hector's feet. "Go take my seat. There's someone who's been anxious to see you for a very long time."

"Right." Steph closed her eyes for a brief moment, trying to gather up all of the tremors and doubts and stuff them into a corner of her mind where Ranger wouldn't be able to see them. No doubt he had enough on his plate, between the attacks on his men and his company and his own injuries, and he didn't need to shoulder the burden of her uncertainties as well.

The deep breathing her dance teacher drilled into her helped. Fixing a smile on her face, Steph placed her feet precisely between the med kit and her seat, and pivoted on her right foot while holding onto the cushioned back. She intended to keep her eyes on the aisle and not anywhere else, but the sight of the person sitting in the seat closest to the doorway made her forget all about that.

"Manny!"

Steph flung her arms around him, hugging him with the tightness that conveyed most eloquently that she had doubts about whether or not he would sacrifice himself to keep her and the jet safe. He winced a little and she backed off, her eyes narrowing as she took in the splint on his right hand and the scrapes on his face and arms that were still bleeding slightly.

"Do I want to know what you did?" she asked in a voice that would have done her mother proud.

He at least had the sense to look embarrassed. "I might have rigged the truck to plow into the bastards at the end of the runway."

"And?"

"Hector may or may not have left a surprise for them in the truck after we bailed."

" _And?"_

Manny squirmed, just the smallest movement that made it hard for Steph to keep her face blank. "There may have been a tiny explosion."

She put her hands on her hips and tapped her foot. "How _tiny_ are we talking about here?"

"About a four on the Bombshell scale," he shot back, reminding her that she was by far the more experienced person when it came to cars going _kaboom_. "Although most of that could have been due to Hector."

Steph threw a glance over her shoulder to find the man in question completely focused on a tablet screen, his fingers flying over the attached keyboard. The splint on his left wrist made the fingers on that hand move slower, so he was doing a lot of backing up and re-typing. Just when she thought he wasn't going to look up, he raised his head just enough that she could see his wink.

"I don't think you should be trying to blame Hector," she said as she turned back to Manny. "In fact, I think from where I'm standing, you might want to—"

Her voice trailed off as she stared out the window just over his shoulder. The edges of the dark grey wings were slightly blackened, with streaks running backwards over the expanse.

"What's that?"

Manny followed the direction Steph pointed and shrugged. "Carbonization. But it isn't very much."

"Fireballs that big don't qualify as a _tiny_ explosion," she said, plopping down in Bobby's empty chair, her knees bumping against the edge of Ranger's stretcher. She might have added more, but a whisper dropped into the brief space of her drawing breath, and Steph forgot about everything else.

"Babe."

She leaned forward, her hands automatically reaching for the hand he held out to her. Steph glanced over the stretcher, noting the thick cream-colored blanket covering his body under the blankets bracing him, held in place by wide straps buckled over his torso and arms. The only things showing were his bare left foot resting against the back of her chair and the left hand now clasped in hers.

Steph looked at his foot. "You were kicking the back of my seat."

A ghost of a smile drifted across his mouth, and the slow, solemn twinkle in his dark eyes gave him away. "Yeah."

For a moment, she smiled with him, but as her eyes took in more details, including the ashen undertone to his skin, all of Steph's amusement deserted her. This wasn't the same as a simple bullet wound that just needed a bandage and everything was fine.

She touched his cheek with her finger tips. "Ranger."

He placed a kiss on the underside of her fingers. "I'm sorry, Babe. This should have never happened."

"I'm sorry, too," she said, letting her fingertips trail across his lips to his chin. Despite the pallor underneath his dusky skin, he was still warm. Warm and alive, and that's what Steph chose to cling to. "It's my fault all of this happened."

He gave a slight shake of his head. "Stephanie, no. I was the one who asked you to do this, and I'm the one who put you in harm's way. I should have gathered more background intel before sending you in."

The tears were back, trembling on her lower lashes. Wiping her nose with the back of her hand, Steph winced as the motion jarred her still tender skull. The congestion that always came with her tears forced her to breathe through her mouth, and she knew without looking in a mirror that her fair complexion was starting to get blotchy.

 _At least I don't have to worry about my hair going frizzy after all of this._

"Ranger," she said, trying to sound reasonable, "I appreciate that you want to take some of the blame, but I can't let you do that. If I'd gone with my usual distraction style, they would have never looked twice at me. _I_ caused this, and I'm the only one who could have stopped this from happening."

Ram coughed in the back seat, covering his mouth to garble what suspiciously sounded like _bullshit_. The cervical collar prevented Steph from turning her head to pin the Merry Man with a death glare. She did manage to tilt her body enough to nail him with an abbreviated version of it, but it was enough to quell him.

When she turned back, Ranger's faint smile had become a grin. It wasn't close to a hundred watt grin, but it was a welcome sight all the same. Steph indulged herself one last time and tapped a forefinger against his lips.

"This isn't funny. I almost lost you."

"I'm not going anywhere," he said. "Although you should go to one of the safe houses Bobby offered. I'm sure Lester can arrange transport after Bobby gets his tests."

Steph leaned in close, not really caring that in this very small place, all of the Merry Men would be able to hear what she said. They were utterly loyal to Ranger, and if he made it clear that what she said wasn't going to be mentioned again, then it wouldn't.

"Listen to me really, really close, because I'm only going to say it one more time. _I'm not going anywhere without you_. You are stuck with me for the duration. Try to leave me somewhere you think is better, and I promise to be such a pain in your ass that you won't be able to sit for two weeks after."

Somehow Ranger managed to get rid of the grin, even though Steph had a feeling that he wanted to start laughing at the thought that any white girl from the prim and proper Burg could cause him that much trouble. So just to get her point across, Steph slowly leaned in until her lips hovered tantalizingly close to his mouth. Looking deep into his eyes, watching them grow darker as his pupils dilated, Steph allowed herself a very small smile.

"I'm either going with you, or I'm going back to Trenton and you can hope that Morelli is good enough to keep me out of trouble. You really want to take the chance that he can watch me every moment and won't get called out to a homicide at precisely the wrong time?"

The amusement was gone, and the light in Ranger's dark eyes turned to something that glittered with the hardness of a man who had trusted certain people one too many times. The fact that he'd walked into gunfire, and dared more danger than seemed conceivable, just because Morelli had failed to keep her safe and had on more than one occasion used her as bait in a high profile case, probably made the topic more than a little touchy.

Steph wasn't in this to be sweet and polite. She'd been shot at, blown up, nearly kidnapped and thrown into a jet. She'd also seen the man she loved go down and nearly die because he'd placed himself between her and danger. Again.

"You're not going back to Trenton until this is over," he said. "I'll have Bobby sedate you and throw away the key before that happens."

Steph grinned and placed a soft kiss at the corner of his mouth. "I knew you'd see it my way."

Someone in the back seat who may or may not have valued his life whistled softly and Ranger relaxed back on the stretcher with a sigh. "You're ruining my image, Babe."

"Yeah, well, I'm going to do more than ruin the image of whoever is after us." She eased back into her seat, even though she would have preferred staying as close to Ranger as possible and directed her question to Bobby who was sitting in her old seat. "Is there any more news from Tank or Lester about the cartels targeting us?"

As soon as the words left her mouth, Steph knew she'd made a mistake. Bobby wore the expression of a deer caught in the floodlights of an artillery range during night fire exercises, and the rest of the Merry Men were making a big production about looking everywhere but at her.

Or their boss. Who they may or may not have been keeping information from, judging by the furious stare that he was currently throwing their way.

When in doubt, distract. Steph dredged up a nervous giggle that sounded like someone was trying to strangle it out of her. "Or maybe I dreamed that part. It might have been right before I dreamt about buying the Tasty Pastry and having to eat all the sale inventory because nobody came to the grand opening. Or maybe it was—"

Bobby pushed himself upright, coming to stand by the stretcher. "No, that's okay, sweetie. I knew we'd have to 'fess up at some point. I was just waiting for the right time."

"And when did you think would be the right time?" Even flat on his back and mostly immobilized, Ranger could still pack a lot of menace into his voice. And with him, the quieter he happened to be, the more pissed-off he was. Italians yelled; Cubans evened the score.

The RangeMan medic shrugged as he held onto the ridge in the overhead curve of the bulkhead. Even though he stood as straight as possible, Steph could easily see his fatigue. While she'd enjoyed her beauty sleep in the safe house, Bobby no doubt was handling doctors and nurses and even a surgeon or two.

The strain of the past few days was telling on him, and Steph once again made herself the promise that she would take on some of that burden so Bobby didn't have to carry it alone. The only problem would be convincing Ranger that not only _could_ Steph help, but that she _should_ help.

But that was another bridge that they had yet to cross.

"I'm waiting."

Bobby sighed. "Tank stopped by the hospital yesterday on his way back from Washington. He was going to debrief you, but you were sleeping without medication, and I didn't want you crawling out of bed again and getting slapped back into the restraints."

"And he said?" Ranger ignored the last part of the statement, just as he ignored the laugh from one of his men that was quickly muffled. There was no question that the straps holding him wouldn't be enough if he decided anyone gave the wrong answer. "Brown…"

"Urgut," said Bobby, before Ranger could decide on making good his threat. "The main coordination for all of this is headquartered out of the mountains to the east and north of Urgut."

Ranger blew out an explosive breath, and Bobby glanced at the monitors. Ranger growled. "Would you quit that? I'm not going to pop the stitches just laying here."

"You know that means Bika Vasilov is involved."

"I know," snapped Ranger, and the stretcher shook a little under the force of his frustration. "How fast can you get me on my feet?"

Bobby didn't beat around the bush. "Depends on how fast you want to go back down again. These aren't just bullet holes that you can slap a bandage on and call it good."

"I was there. I think I know that."

This time Steph stifled her giggle, pretty sure that she wouldn't help the tension between the two men if she started laughing like a loon. A snort escaped her, and she clamped a hand over her mouth, not even quick enough to try to turn it into a cough.

Bobby's face split into a grin, and Ranger managed to hold onto his frown for only a second longer before he relaxed and shook his head at her.

"Babe, this is serious."

Steph took her hand away. "I know it is. I was there, too, remember? I'm pretty sure the blood I washed off was yours, because it certainly wasn't mine."

The reminder of not only what she'd seen but also experienced, Ranger's eyes softened. "Babe, that's why you should go to one of the safe houses we had picked out for you. We can call RangeMan while in the air and have them send another jet to meet us. You'd be on your way to what would amount to a vacation until all of this blows over."

"Pain. Ass." Steph didn't stick out her tongue, mostly because she wasn't sure Ranger wouldn't start a mental list of everything he needed to get even with her for. "Keep forgetting that, and I'll start trying to prove it."

He might have sighed, but it was so quiet that she really couldn't be sure. "Fine. Do what you want. But if you go with us, then you'll have to agree to certain conditions."

"Name them and I'll think about it."

Ranger turned his head towards her, and Bobby backed out of the way, wisely assuming that Steph would get farther with Ranger than he could at the moment. That wasn't to say there wouldn't be a reckoning later, as well as a debriefing, but Bobby's job was to get Ranger healthy enough that he _could_ debrief.

Steph couldn't be happier that the medic was damn good at his job.

"Focus, Babe," Ranger said. He brought their hands down to rest on his chest; Steph didn't miss the tiny wince as the weight of it pressed against his ribs. "Number one is big. I want you armed at all times."

"I think I can manage that," she said, and he grimaced.

"Armed with something more dangerous than a Tastykake."

"I can do that." Greatly daring, Steph leaned over and pressed her lips to the back of his hand. Some wicked little imp of the perverse prompted her to use the tip of her tongue to caress the skin before she sat back to find his eyes dark with an emotion that shot a thrill of heat through her. "Focus, Ranger."

"Babe."

"Pain, ass," she said, laughing a little at his expression. "I promise that I'll be armed with something that can do enough bodily damage to give any mercenary wet dreams. That work for you?"

"Only if you promise to work with one of the guys so you know how to use it." He was silent for a moment and Steph watched as his eyelids slid closed. Ranger caught himself before he fell asleep, squeezing her hand as if to reassure himself that she was still there. And still real.

"Second…condition." His voice was weaker, but she didn't dare look at Bobby. "If you have to go, no…arguments. Don't…"

Ranger drifted off before he could finish telling her exactly what it was she _wasn't_ supposed to do. Steph glanced back at Bobby, who was sitting sideways in her old seat watching them both.

"Is that normal?" Steph asked, the fear resurfacing.

He glanced at Ranger and nodded. "Yeah, don't worry about it. He's been in more than out lately, so there's definitely improvement there. He'll nap for about thirty to forty minutes, wake up for fifteen, make our lives miserable and then nod off again. That's pretty much the pattern he follows."

"Okay," Steph said, turning her attention to the next big problem. Ranger had fallen asleep with her hand trapped underneath his, and every time she tried to slip away his fingers would tighten. Leaning over the aisle wasn't very comfortable; her lower back was already starting to complain.

Once again Bobby came to her rescue. A low command to the trio of Merry Men squashed onto the back seat produced a couple of plump travel pillows from a compartment under the seat. Bobby took both of them and helped Steph position them so she was resting on those and the strain wasn't as much on her abused back muscles.

"You're going to be sore," he said as he helped her adjust her seat. "I can always wake him up so you can be more comfortable."

"I'll be fine. As long as wherever we're going is civilized enough to have a decent bathroom and doesn't require I kill and cook my own food, I'll be able to deal." Steph shifted a little more and gritted her teeth as Ranger's fingers slid over her hand. While she was willing to forgive him the caress on the grounds that he was still injured and in all probability asleep, the idea of starting a checklist of _his_ infractions had a certain appeal.

One thing she knew was that Ranger would not be an easy patient while he convalesced. Morelli liked to wrap up in a blanket and be miserable by himself; once he felt better, he'd get snippy if she hovered too close or didn't help him when he wanted it. After the first four go-arounds, Steph learned to call Joe's mom and let her handle the bulk of the chores in caring for her son.

Steph propped her chin on her free hand and watched Ranger's chest rise and fall in the slow, deep rhythm of sleep. It wasn't often that she saw him in such a vulnerable state; whenever they cohabited in the past, he was either awake before she was in the morning or keeping her up late into the midnight hours. They'd never had the luxury of just being in one another's company because they chose to be.

Now she had that chance, at least for a short time, and Steph didn't know what would happen at the end of it. So she rested her head on the pillow, tilted so her still-sore cheek wouldn't stain the crisp white cover and the cervical collar didn't dig into the back of her skull. Steph felt the even breathing of the man she loved more than she thought possible, and it was enough.

For now.


	12. Chapter 12

_All recognizable characters belong to Janet Evanovich. Completely Babe. Rated M for mature content, adult situations and language. Places, names and procedures have been altered to fit the story. All mistakes are mine. My deepest thanks to everyone who has read this story and those who have taken the time to review as guests._

Sometime long after Pennsylvania disappeared into the night behind them, Steph succumbed to the lethal combination of Ranger's steady heartbeat under her fingers and the warm weight of his hand resting on hers. She slid into the soft darkness of sleep, the rumble of the Merry Men's quiet voices following her down. She floated there, perfectly content, until electricity spun across every nerve ending she possessed, jerking her awake; Ranger brushed his fingertips across her skin again and Steph's heart crawled into her throat and clogged her breathing in a cloud of physical need.

Well aware she was awake, Ranger hesitated for a moment, then ran a finger across the tendons on the back of her hand, light enough that the instinctive shiver ran up her arm and across her spine like a wash of cold, cold water. As he started the return trip, Steph pushed herself upright, intent on reclaiming her hand before he got even more creative. Something in her back twinged, and all she had time for was a split-second _oh shit_ before her back lit up in a massive cramp. Pain shot through her hips and into her legs, erupting into her brain and setting off fireworks that had nothing to do with her hormones.

An involuntary whimper escaped her and Steph collapsed back onto the pillow she'd held on her knees, tears of sheer agony leaking out of her tightly shut eyes. Ignoring the babble of voices around her, Steph turned her face into the pristine white pillow cover and simply cried.

Bobby's hand touched her upper back, sending waves of crippling pain through her shoulders and into her arms. "Steph, what's wrong?"

She didn't answer, and couldn't have found the brain power to string together words anyways. Then someone picked her up carefully, muscular arms cradling her next to a firm chest that didn't belong to Ranger. As Steph struggled to draw air into starving lungs, she was lowered carefully onto the soft cushion of the back seats. Steph turned on her side, curling her legs into her chest as she sought a position that would ease the pain.

Something pressed against her lower back and Steph flinched hard. The weight moved with her, staying in place no matter how she tried to escape it.

Then she felt it. Warmth. Blessed heat seeped into the hard, knotted, spasming muscles of her lower back, spreading in all directions until the pain eased enough that she could once again feel her legs. Steph blinked to clear her blurry eyes and found herself surrounded by the Merry Men standing entirely too close in the small space at the back of the jet.

"I'm okay," she croaked out, her voice scratchy from sleep and the unpleasant wake up call. "It was just a cramp."

Men who stood fast in the face of gunfire and gas explosions and faced down gangbangers and international cartels with equal courage paled at the last word. Hal swayed and abruptly sat down in the nearest chair, his fair complexion going ghostly white.

"In my _back_. Yeesh."

Bobby crouched next to her, keeping the chemical heat packs in place. He wasn't fazed by the thought of female cramps, but he was also a veteran of more than a few rotations through the St. Francis OB/GYN during full moons, summer holidays and winter storms.

"How does it feel now?" he asked, shifting the packs a little. "I shouldn't have let you sleep that long slumped over. But every time I roused you for a concussion check you went right back to sleep afterwards."

"I've slept in worse places," Steph said, cautiously straightening her legs and rolling her shoulders to encourage the muscles to release. There was only a little protest from her back, so she arched her spine, coaxing it to loosen even more. Her breathing deepened and relaxed, and Steph carefully used her elbow and hands to roll upright.

"Let me—"

Bobby juggled the packs as he tried to help her at the same time, but Steph stopped him with a shake of her head. "No, I've got this. It's better."

He watched her balance for a moment, then glanced at the men still surrounding them. The Merry Men took the hint and backed away, gathering up gear and heading for forward hatch _en masse_. It was then that Steph realized the engines were silent and the hatch wide open, letting in daylight and decidedly colder air.

"Where are we?"

Bobby rested his forearm on one knee, weariness in every line of his posture now that the immediate emergency was over. "Manitoba, Canada. It's an airbase we've worked out of before on some of our missions. The ambulance should be here shortly for both of you."

Her eyes went to the stretcher. At some point in the flight while she slept, the head had been elevated so Ranger was half-sitting. To her eyes he looked just as exhausted as Bobby, but he was outwardly alert, his eyes dark and unreadable and his mouth set in a grim line.

"And this ambulance is going where?" Steph asked, easing towards the edge of the seat as she worked up the courage to try the whole standing thing. If it didn't work, then she'd already decided one of the Merry Men could carry her to the ambulance, pride be damned.

Bobby rested a hand on a seat for a moment before pushing himself to his feet. "You'll be going to the medical center. It has an excellent lab and radiology unit. While we're there, the jet will refuel and take off back to the States. Our next ride will be on a military transport."

"It's not too late to change your mind," said Ranger suddenly. "Lester can have a private flight chartered to take you to warmer climates by the time your labs are done. Blue sky, warm sand, room service."

Steph wrapped her hand around Bobby's proffered forearm and pulled herself to a wobbly stand. "You almost had me at _room service_ , Ranger. Too bad your suave and charming self forgot the most important thing needed to change my mind."

His obvious puzzlement almost dredged a laugh out of her. Steph didn't often see baffled Ranger, and she had to admit it was a sight she wouldn't mind seeing more often, especially if she was the one putting that expression on his face.

Slowly, Steph inched across the carpeted floor to the chair closest to him. Sinking into the cushion, she waited for a moment to see if her back would throw another tantrum. It declined to tie itself into knots again and Steph exhaled in relief.

"What am I missing, Babe?"

"You," she said without hesitation. "None of it matters if I know you're somewhere else hurt and in danger."

His expression softened and he held out his left hand. Steph reached for it, then stopped and grimaced as the muscles in her back protested. She paused, waiting for it to loosen, then gritted her teeth and took his hand without regard for the pain.

"Stop wondering if I want to be anywhere else," she said. " _I don't_. This is where I want to be, right next to you."

Ranger brought her hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss on her knuckles. "You're impressing me, Babe. It's scary."

"Yeah, well, I've figured out a few things these last few days." Steph rolled her eyes, mostly at the thought of how much adrenaline she'd manage to burn through just from sheer terror. It was a wonder she'd had time to do anything else. "I know what's right and what isn't, and I'm strong enough to do what's right when it needs to be done. Staying with you is so right that I don't even want to hear someone tell me all the reasons why I should leave."

His smile grew until it was a dazzling one hundred watts. "I'd say I was proud of you, but I didn't have anything to do with this. It's all you, Babe, and you're simply amazing."

Her first instinct, drilled hard into her from an upbringing in the Burg, was to duck her head and hide from that kind of praise. But with Ranger looking into her eyes with a steady gaze that drove deep into the center of her soul, Steph gathered up her courage and decided to take her own advice.

 _Do what's right._

"I couldn't have survived without the guys," she said. Bobby made in indistinct movement from his spot, but Steph shook her head. He could argue all he wanted to, but she wouldn't back down on this one, either. "You and Tank and Bobby and Lester, the rest of the guys—you've built RangeMan into a formidable force with talented and skilled men on your team. I wouldn't be surprised if more people want to hire RangeMan after they see what everyone has accomplished these last few days."

"Oh, please, God. No." Bobby sat down in the nearest seat faster than Hal had. "I'll go stark raving mad if I have to keep doing this shit over and over."

"Ranger will have to hire you more staff," said Steph, her smile turning mischievous. "Maybe Kallie from the trauma center is looking for a change. I'm sure Ram would love that."

"Ram would love for you ladies to quit chatting over tea cakes and finger sandwiches and get moving," said the man himself from the hatchway of the jet. "Ambulance is here and they'd like to get everyone loaded."

Bobby lurched to his feet. "That's my cue. Bomber, you're up first. Hector, Ram and Woody will ride with you. The rest of us will follow."

"Promise?" Steph asked, not quite sure if she liked the idea of being separated from Ranger again so soon. "Promise me that we'll all leave this base together?"

"Promise, sweetie," said Bobby, and with that she had to be content.

"Okay, then. What are the contingency plans if these cartels have people in position already?"

Even as she said it, Steph was hoping that wouldn't be the case. Surely even international cartels and smuggling rings wouldn't have enough manpower or funds to have people in place this far out of their normal area of operation. For the first time in days, she actually let herself believe they finally had time to catch their collective breaths before the next phase.

"Better hope we don't have to go there," said Ranger. "At this point it would involve outside bathrooms and no running water."

Her mind flashed back to the first time Ranger tried to get her to a safe house in Maine. While she hoped that particular one had since been upgraded in the intervening years, the memory and the dire possibilities were enough to get her moving again.

"Yeah, sharing the brush with something more dangerous than a New Jersey pervert is not going to work for me," she said. "I need at least the promise of modern conveniences And no barks or twigs."

Bobby steadied her as she swayed. "Easy does it, Bomber. After all you've been through, it's going to take some time to get your body to behave."

"Yeah, I have that song and dance memorized." Steph breathed deeply through her nose, concentrating on pulling her balance back into line. Satisfied that she was as good as it was going to get, Steph turned towards the open hatchway and the ever-patient Ram, only to be yanked backwards by her still-captive left hand.

Not for the first time, she wished she could do the one eyebrow thing, because Ranger definitely deserved it. He held tightly to her hand, amusement dancing in his dark eyes as he watched her. The amusement changed swiftly to something else when Steph rested her hip against the stretcher and leaned in close.

"Ricardo Carlos Manoso," she said, fighting back a grin as that something in his gaze flared hotter. "Are you being difficult?"

Ranger dropped his eyes to her mouth, and a muscle at the corner of his lips twitched. "Yes. Is it working?"

Steph kept her breathing even. Whenever Ranger challenged her like this, her first impulse was to run. Or faint. Or wet her pants. But that had been before, and Steph wanted to do something different, something that would take her to the future she wanted to live.

 _If your back is against the wall, push back._ Ram's words echoed in her brain.

"Maybe you're right," she whispered, not sure if she was talking to herself or to Ranger. "Maybe there are times when thinking is overrated."

His lips parted as she moved tantalizingly close to him, close enough that she could feel his breath quicken. Then just as his dark lashes swept across his cheek in a slow blink, Steph dipped her head down and took his soft, talented mouth.

At full strength, Ranger would have taken control of the kiss immediately, turning her until she ran into something solid and then plundering her mouth until her knees gave out. But he wasn't close to full strength, and so Steph took the reins and poured every bit of hope, fear, love and a smidgen of lust into the single point of contact, intent on blowing his concentration out of the water.

All while staying fully clothed, since they still had an audience.

It was hard to stay on task, because even a weakened Ranger was still a formidable opponent. His tongue tangled with hers, drawing it further into his mouth as his fingers flexed around her hand. Steph broke the kiss, teasing him with the space between their lips, then slid back in, touching and tasting him until his heart monitors were going nuts and his chest heaved from the exertion.

A finger tapped her firmly on the shoulder, and Steph pulled away. Her left hand came off the stretcher as she took her now-free right hand well out of Ranger's reach. Her smile was back, impish and perverse, and Steph let Ranger see it before switching her attention to Ram, who had turned to stare outside the jet with rapt interest.

"Ready to go?" she asked brightly. Something that might have been a groan rose from the stretcher beside her, and the little imp of the perverse took over. The faint smile became a full-out grin when she met Ranger's dark gaze and knew that her kiss had achieved its objective.

"That was only the first part," she said, and he rolled his eyes toward the ceiling as if beseeching _somebody_ for more strength. "The second part will have to wait until we're at the safe house, and only if you behave yourself and do what Bobby tells you to."

Ram wordlessly handed her the hoodie from Eirene's salon as she swept out the door. As she shrugged into it, Steph hobbled down the steps, well aware that it was a lot easier to negotiate them when the jet in question wasn't moving. Her ankle still hurt from being dragged under the stairs, and her hip and leg ached, but she was upright and that was a good thing.

Her foot settled onto Canadian soil and Steph took in the bustle around this part of the airfield. They were in the shadow of a huge hangar that blocked her view of everything but part of a very distant runway. The sound of multiple jet and heavy engines rumbled through the air, and she could smell fuel and oil and a thousand other different smells that she couldn't sort through.

An EMS medic leaned against the hood of the ambulance parked near the tail of the jet. She straightened as Steph reached the ground and jogged over to them.

"You the first patient?" she asked.

Steph traded a look with Ram, who seemed to have appointed himself her current shadow. "I guess I am. Bobby said he wanted a CT—"

"Got that in the orders," said the medic. "If you'll wait right here, we'll get the gurney over and—"

"I can walk," said Steph at the same time as Ram said "We'll wait."

The looks traded this time were not as friendly, at least not on Steph's part, but before she could correct the Merry Man, the woman was next to her, wrapping a gloved hand around her arm and guiding her towards the bottom step of the jet.

"Ma'am, if you would sit—"

Steph shook off her hand. "I can walk. Ram, get the rest of the guys so we can get going. The less time it takes, the faster we'll be in the air again."

"Ma'am…"

She staggered to her feet and started walking, not listening any more and certainly not willing to stop. Now that she was farther away from Ranger, she was more aware than ever that she wasn't comfortable with the distance. The sooner she had him back in her sight, the calmer she would be.

Ram caught up with her and just as Hector and Woody jogged around the tail of the jet. The former gang member was still wearing a splint on his wrist, and she felt a pang at the thought of how much she had damaged the Merry Men already.

 _And we haven't even reached the safe house yet._

Ram opened the back door of the ambulance and offered Steph a hand as she scrambled inside, ever mindful of the touchy back muscles as well as her other injuries. Turning sideways to avoid the empty stretcher, Steph plopped down on the bench seat, sliding down to make room for everybody else who would have to fit in the small space. To her surprise, Woody was the only one who crowded in behind Ram and the medic; she glanced through the window to the front cab and saw Hector slide into the passenger seat, his gaze fixed directly on the young, brown-haired medic driving.

The man gulped and put a shaking hand on the gear shift. His partner thumped the partition and he flinched before putting the vehicle into reverse and backing carefully away from the jet.

Steph saw the grey shape of the aircraft in the back window as they drove away and stilled the quiver in the pit of her stomach when she also noticed the darker streaks along the underside of the fuselage from the explosion of the truck and the two cars. Another ambulance was already pulling in, no doubt for Ranger, but it was soon hidden from sight as their driver accelerated and turned the corner.

The ambulance sped past rows of planes, both large cargo transports with immense propellers and smaller fighters. Steph didn't have a chance to see them other than a glimpse; as soon as they were moving at a steady pace the medic swung into action, asking questions and running the same field diagnostic tests that Bobby had run on that first helicopter ride. The ambulance turned off the flight line and wove through broad streets, dodging other vehicles and pedestrians with the ease of a true master at the wheel.

While the medic worked on Steph and jotted notes on a clipboard, Ram and Woody sat on either side of the door, watching everything both inside the ambulance and outside. Neither man said anything, preferring to communicate using that superhero ESP channel that Steph had yet to tap into.

Or get the key code for.

Something buzzed in her pocket, making her jump, and the medic glanced at her curiously. Steph dug into the hoodie pocket and pulled out Ranger's phone, bemused for a moment as to why it was still in her possession and not returned to the man it belonged to. Then she read the message on the screen and the light bulb of personal enlightenment flashed on.

 _Because I like the thought of you carrying my phone close to one of my favorite parts of your body._

Her face went hot and Steph fumbled putting the phone away, nearly bouncing it off the stretcher and the floor in her haste to conceal that particular message that had been sent from Bobby's phone number but no doubt had _not_ been sent with the RangeMan medic's knowledge.

The phone buzzed again and Steph dropped her chin to her chest. Starting a battle of wills with Ranger never turned out well for her. He loved the challenge and would home in on the goal with the intensity of a born predator. And right now, he was evidently of the opinion that she was the prey. And this time, it really was her fault.

With a long-suffering sigh, Steph brought the phone out and read the little message bubble that appeared below the first.

 _And if my hands can't be the ones heating you up, I'll settle for my phone doing it instead._

"Ma'am, I'm going to have to ask you to put your phone away." The medic didn't quite scowl at her, but her expression edged very close to thunderous.

Steph slid the phone back into her pocket, where it proceeded to buzz at irregular intervals as Ranger no doubt amused himself with trying to make her blush in front of completely strangers. If Joe tried the same thing, no doubt Steph would have accused him of being a macho Italian asshole. With Ranger, she couldn't help but remember the times he _hadn't_ been a macho Cuban asshole. There were so many time that he could have pulled back and made her feel inferior without even trying. Hell, he could do that just by breathing, but instead he focused on her and engaged in play like this as if she were an equal.

Even if she would never be his equal except in her dreams.

The medic noted the numbers for her pulse and oxygen saturation on a clipboard. Then she checked over Steph's skull with fingers that were firm but surprisingly gentle. As she scribbled some more, Steph shot a glance at Ram and Woody, not quite believing they'd been on the ground this long and nothing had exploded and no one was shooting at them.

"It's early," said Ram, noticing her look. "We're not out of the woods yet."

"Don't jinx us," Steph said, and Woody laughed softly at her irritated tone. The ambulance turned hard right, then swung left, and Steph tensed, thinking that the universe wasn't going to wait to screw with them again. But then a shadow passed over the windows and they pulled inside a garage, and the engine shut off.

The back doors opened quickly and Woody's hand dropped reflexively towards his gun. But the only ones standing outside in the garage bay were two nurses from the ER unit, and they readily fell back, giving Steph and the others room to climb out.

Woody and Ram went first, their hands staying close to their weapons. The medic was next, then all three turned and looked directly at Steph.

She froze for a moment, suddenly self-conscious. That translated into not watching her feet and she caught her foot on the stretcher, pitching forward in a trajectory that would end in a face plant on the concrete floor. Fortunately Ram was still faster than her bad luck, and he caught her easily, swinging her around to touch lightly onto the hard surface.

"Thanks," she said, holding onto his arm. "That was close."

"We aim to please," he said, just as Ranger's phone buzzed again.

She didn't fish it out to look at the screen. The Canadian equivalent of an orderly pushed a wheelchair in front of her, and she didn't even argue this time. As she was wheeled forward at a good clip, Steph slipped her hand inside the pocket holding the overactive piece of electronics and touched the smooth screen. It buzzed under her fingers again, sending a shiver through her, and Steph promised herself that she would find the time to answer Ranger.

 _Just you wait, Henry Higgins. See how you like dealing with innuendo and veiled suggestions in the middle of a procedure._

Her smile turned wicked. Oh, yeah. This was going to be more fun than she'd had in a long time, and Ranger Manoso was in no way guaranteed an easy win.


	13. Chapter 13

_All recognizable characters belong to Janet Evanovich. Completely Babe. Rated M for mature content, adult situations and language. Places, names and procedures have been altered to fit the story. All mistakes are mine. My deepest thanks to everyone who has read this story and those who have taken the time to review as guests._

* * *

 _-smooth and silky and cool, just like a melting ice cube sliding between my—_

The door to the windowless private waiting room jerked open, startling Steph. She froze as Bobby stood in the opening, glaring at her with narrowed eyes that meant she was in serious trouble. He pointed two fingers at her, then turned them towards his eyes and back again, getting his message across loud and clear.

Guiltily, Steph pressed the delete button on the touch screen of the smart phone and erased the entire message. Flashing the empty screen at the disgruntled medic, she put the phone on the wood side table next to the comfortable chair and put her hands up to let him know she wouldn't start up again after he left.

Bobby huffed out a long-suffering breath and shut the door, but not before Steph saw the thumb's up he flashed her on his way back to wherever Ranger waited for his test results.

Left without the game of text tag that she was pretty sure she was winning, Steph glanced around the silent room with light blue painted walls and inoffensive landscape pictures. Ram and Woody stood guard in the hallway outside the waiting room, and Hector shuttled back and forth between the RangeMan contingent and the base hospital staff, running interference whenever she had another test.

In the last few hours, they'd scanned, poked, prodded, bandaged and medicated every injury she had collected. Her throbbing ankle and stiff knee were wrapped, her lower back massaged and every little scrape, burn and cut disinfected and smeared with antibiotic ointment. A cup of coffee doctored with enough sugar and cream to turn it pale brown sat next to the phone, and the empty sandwich wrapper from the sub Hector brought back from one of his trips sat next to it.

Ranger's phone buzzed at her, and Steph spared it a glance. If he sent Bobby to run interference for him just because she was winning…

It buzzed again, and she sighed. She _had_ held her own in the contest of innuendo and double entendre. The key for her was keeping a sense of perversity coupled with the confidence from her dream about walking across the club dance floor, knowing she drew every eye with her absolute sincerity that she could handle anything, and challenging Ranger to be the one to give it his best shot.

Then she read the newest message on the screen and winning didn't matter any more.

 _Babe, you need to call Morelli_.

 _That_ was a code she recognized instantly as Ranger throwing the caution flag on their play. He warned her often enough, when he sensed the barriers between them thinning and ready to give way. It was a default with him, and she was starting to think it was what he used to remind himself of—what had he said when he offered her this distraction job?

Oh, yes.

 _Reminding myself how exotic and unattainable you are, Babe._

Her brow furrowed. While she once believed that Ranger teased her with the possibility of more between them before pulling back because of her, his actions over the past few days led her to wonder if perhaps the person he tortured the most was himself.

 _I always knew Batman wasn't at peace with himself, but this…_

Hector eased through the door, putting a finger to his lips when she glanced up from the screen. He crossed the carpeted floor noiselessly and held out his hand for Ranger's phone. Steph gave it to him, glad to be rid of that damning message, and he flipped open the charging port and plugged a little black box into it. Turning the smart phone upright, Hector tapped on the screen, his eyes darting back and forth as he read the words scrolling across it. The phone went dark, then lit up again and he handed it back to Steph.

She stared at it, not quite sure what she was supposed to do. Every fiber of her being rebelled against the thought of hearing Joe's voice and dealing with the questions she knew the answers to, but also knowing those answers were not what Morelli wanted to hear.

Gently, Hector took the phone away from her again. He studied her for a long moment, then scrolled through a couple of screens and turned the screen back towards her.

 _Detective Joe Morelli. Trenton Police Department_.

The words hung on the screen, dark against the light background with the round little phone icon below it. All she had to do was take the phone from Hector, press that one spot on the screen, and she would be connected to the man everyone in the Burg expected her to marry.

The only question was why she seemed to be the one person in the Burg who dreaded that prospect the most.

Hector tilted the phone— _Ranger's_ phone—and Steph took it from him. Before she lost the nerve to do it, she pressed her thumb firmly against the screen and steeled herself for the next few minutes.

 _I can do this_.

Hector retreated to the other side of the room, pulling out his own phone and burying himself in it. She watched him for a moment as the connection rang in her ear, counting off the seconds with each little electronic _brrt._

 _Please go to voicemail. Please go to voicemail. Please—_

"You've got some nerve, Manoso."

 _Damn._

Joe kept talking, obviously used to Ranger not saying much. "I told you that encouraging Stephanie in these wild-assed situations would put her in danger. Leave her alone so she can live without fearing one of your high bond skips will come after her because she was playing at being a bounty hunter."

 _Did he just go there?_

"Do you realize that your fuckup leveled half a city block?" Joe didn't even wait for an answer. "Then I hear from Eddie that my girlfriend is in the middle of a gunfight, nearly killed by some punk ass gangbanger and drove off in a shot-up Firebird. I don't care who you know or bought off. If you don't bring Stephanie back here safe and unhurt, I will sic every law enforcement agency in this country on you and your men. This is it. I'm done letting you ruin her future. It's time you got out of her life for good."

Silence. Well, except for the sound of Morelli's heavy breathing. Steph could see him in her mind's eye, holding the phone in a white-knuckled grip so tight the plastic creaked, his nostrils flaring and his whisky-brown eyes glittering with righteous Italian male fury.

 _If he could pee a circle around me right now, he probably would_.

"Aren't you going to say something?" Joe demanded. "This isn't the time for your silent shit, Manoso."

Steph swallowed. This was it. She could hang up and Joe would never know that Ranger hadn't heard his tirade. Or she could get her balls back from Morelli and stand up for the people who continually placed themselves between her and danger way too often, especially in the last four days.

Or five. She wasn't quite sure between the house blowing up and the salon and the Turnpike exit, never mind the cars exploding under the jet and the whole fleeing the country to a place most New Jersey natives considered the untamed wilderness just a step up from Jurassic Park…

"I'm done with this shit," Joe said suddenly, and Steph found the anger and sadness that she needed to see this through.

"So am I, Morelli."

"Cupcake?"

"Yeah, Joe, it's me." She heaved out a sigh. "I'm sorry you feel that way about me and about Ranger. I thought you at least came to terms with the life I chose to live. Guess I was wrong."

"No, you're not wrong. I love you, Steph, and I am tired of seeing you hurt. Ranger uses you and then throws you away when he's tired of dealing with your shit. One of these days he's going to hang you out to dry and you'll be on your own and completely out of your depth."

Joe's tone was completely reasonable, and Steph could hear the entreaty beneath it. It tugged at her, but she had to ask herself if it affected her because she loved Joe despite everything, or because she trusted him to have _her_ best interest at heart.

Then she remembered a critically injured Ranger throwing his body over hers to protect her from danger.

"Come home, Cupcake," Joe said, his words soft. "Come home, give up this adrenaline junkie lifestyle and enjoy being able to sleep in your own bed every night without worrying about who's coming through the window."

"What about you?" Steph heard her voice asking the question, even if her mind wasn't sure where she was going with it. "Where will you be sleeping?"

His voice warmed, dropping down a few notches to a seductive, enticing baritone. "Beside you, Cupcake. Loving you and watching you grow big with our children, taking them to school every morning, helping them with their homework, cooking them supper and putting them to bed."

Steph didn't realize she was crying until the tears dripped onto her arm. Blinking back the stinging in her eyes, she drew a ragged breath and prayed that she would have the strength to live with what she was about to do.

"When?" she asked, her voice thick with the tears she was still holding back.

"When what?" Joe asked, his confusion plain.

"When did I tell you that I chose the life you see for me?" The quiver in her stomach grew stronger and Steph gritted her teeth against it. "Was it when we were living together for the past three weeks, sharing that same bed you see me in and sharing our hopes and dreams? Or was it when you left the message on my voicemail last weekend?"

"I—the voicemail? Cupcake, I hadn't seen you and Robin mentioned Manoso's men were bringing in your regulars. I worried about you, unlike some people who throw you to the wolves." He struggled to stay calm, but his temper was seething just below the surface. "Stephanie, you're not getting any younger, and this whole charade should be a wake-up call. Get out while you're still alive. Come home so we can stop worrying about what's going to go wrong next."

Her eyes flicked towards Hector still working on his phone, no doubt bouncing the cell signal from Ranger's phone around the continent if not the world, risking his life and his sister's ire to protect her. In the hallway, Ram and Woody talked in low voices, the rumble of their voices oddly comforting. There were so many others, some whose names she didn't know, who had put themselves in the line of fire.

For her. Without hesitation.

"You're right. This has been a wake-up call to me. I'm seeing things that I ignored before."

Joe made a satisfied noise. " _Now_ you're getting it. Come home, Cupcake. Leave all of that behind and be the woman I know you can be."

Steph propped her elbow on her knee and rested her chin on her hand. "I can't do that yet, Joe. I won't lead these people back to my family or my friends."

"Bullshit. Manoso told you that to suck you into this," said Joe, still in the reasonable tone.

"I know people shot at me and the guys," said Steph. "I'm not taking the chance they'll target the innocent just to get at me."

Joe sighed, no doubt wondering why she was being so stubborn. If Steph knew him at all, he was probably running his fingers through his hair, making it stand up on end. It was an unconscious gesture, as if he could draw her unwillingness to do what he wanted out of his brain.

"Steph, you're out of your league. I know you think you can handle situations like these, but you can't. Do you really think Manoso will bleed money just so you can pretend you're useful? You're not a high value target he needs to protect, Cupcake. Sooner or later, Ranger will pat you on the head and tell you to go home. And you'll come home and you'll sit in your apartment for days on end, thinking the bad guys are waiting to snatch you away, and there will be nothing. No one will care, and no one will be after you, as soon as Manoso cuts you loose."

Her heart sank a little, even as she told herself Joe was wrong. "You're wrong, Joe. I've seen the shooters, I've seen what they are willing to do to get at us. If I go back to my apartment before this is finished, there will be more casualties."

"No, there won't. There's nothing you have that makes you special, Cupcake." Joe laughed a little. "I'll admit you're occasionally adventurous in bed, but that's it. Everything else—out on the street, tracking down the criminals—you might be insanely lucky, but you're not doing anything some other clueless wannabe couldn't do."

The pain in her heart grew stronger until it was difficult to breathe. Steph pressed the heel of her hand against her chest, pressing against that pain as she wondered if there had ever been a time when Joe gave her the benefit of the doubt. There were so many times when Ranger said he was proud of her. When was the last time Joe said anything like that?

"Are you proud of me?" Steph asked softly.

" _What?"_

"Simple question, Joe. Are you now or have you ever been proud of what I've been able to do as a bounty hunter?"

He was silent. That lack of words hurt even more, but at the same time a weight lifted off her heart. Steph took a deep breath and let it out slowly, willing herself to give Joe the time to collect his thoughts and tell her the truth in a clear, concise way.

 _Any minute now…any minute…_

"Stephanie, stop the delusions. Stop the fantasy. Come home, marry me and we'll raise the next generation of Morellis and make both of our mothers very happy."

Steph shook her head, even though Joe couldn't see her. "No, Joe. I want you to tell me the truth. Are you proud of me?"

"You roll in garbage, Cupcake. You wreck cars and the cops still have a betting pool on the next time you'll either lose one or destroy somebody else's. It's time you figure out that everyone else is laughing at you."

"So you're not proud."

He laughed. "How can I be proud when you haven't accomplished anything important? Call me when you're ready to grow up, Steph. Then we can make plans on how to build our future and get rolling on the grandkids."

Steph thought about hanging up then, but she didn't. She held the phone to her ear and waited for Joe to continue, only to hear the disconnect and realize Morelli had hung up on her. No _good-bye_ , no _see you around_. No _is there anything I can do for the woman I love_. Just a casual wrecking of her self-esteem and confidence and a quick getaway before her temper could take over.

His words ran through her brain, chasing themselves into tight circles that kept spinning around until all Steph could do was bow her head over her knees and let the tears drip down. She clutched Ranger's phone in both hands, squeezing until the edges of the slim plastic case sliced into her much-abused flesh.

Someone took the phone out of her hand, sliding it away as her fingers loosened. Steph knew it was probably Hector, so she wrapped both arms around her knees and buried her face in them, the hot tears sliding across her flesh and wetting the denim of her jeans. Somehow she kept the sobs silent, not willing to lose what little respect she'd earned from the Merry Men.

The laundry list of reasons why she cried was a hefty one, but foremost was the bitter realization that a man she _thought_ at least respected her was only in love with his idea of what he wanted her to be.

And the man who didn't hesitate to tell her how proud he was of her always pulled back just when she thought they were finally making progress towards being something more. Together.

Arms that were not Hector's wrapped around her and picked her up with ridiculous ease. Steph rubbed at her eyes as she was turned and then settled against a broad, muscular chest that could only belong to a Merry Man.

She pushed away, embarrassed that anyone should see her in such an emotional mess, and the arms tightened. "Just relax, Bomber. Nobody's going to breathe a word about this."

Ram's voice rumbled through his chest next to her ear, and Steph tried one more time to escape before finally giving up and settling into the place that he had evidently decided she needed to be. Steph leaned her head against his shoulder and turned her face into his t-shirt, once again glad that Ranger chose black for his company uniform. While it wouldn't disguise the snot that would no doubt soon be flowing from her nose, it did hide the tears.

By the time the crying faded to occasional sniffles, every muscle in her body ached and a tightening knot of tension behind her eyes promised to become a full-blown tension headache from hell. Ram didn't speak the entire time; he just rocked her slightly and hummed under his breath until she finally relaxed.

When she was close to falling asleep, exhausted from the emotional storm, he spoke in a gentle, soothing tone. "Bomber, we're sorry. We thought you'd want to talk to Morelli and the people back home for yourself. We didn't think he would upset you like that."

"He doesn't love me," she said quietly. She clasped her hands, thinking about what Morelli said. Or didn't say. And she wondered if everyone else she knew wouldn't say the same thing.

 _Does everyone think I'm a thick-witted idiot who can't see her own life for the embarrassment it is?_

Ram's arms tightened around her. "You're not thick-witted and you're not an embarrassment. So get those thoughts out of your head."

"Joe thinks I'm an adrenaline junkie. He says if I would just quit playing at being a bounty hunter, no one would target me." Steph yawned, her jaw popping loudly. "The problem is the future he wants for me is the future I don't want."

"Then don't go towards that future." Ram sounded entirely too sure of himself, and Steph slid him a sideways glance to see if he was making fun of her. "I'm serious, Bomber. Pick the way that takes you to the future you want. It's as simple as that."

"It's not as easy as just saying it."

He shrugged, the movement shifting her. "I didn't say it was easy. But it's doable, if you just make a choice about the future that you want and commit yourself to working towards it."

Steph turned that over in her mind, even as exhaustion crawled over her. She wanted to lock herself in this waiting room and pretend none of this had happened. She wanted to find Ranger and beg him to tell her she wasn't a pitiful screw up.

"Ranger's just waiting for some test results," said Ram. "Bobby said they'd have them in a couple hours and then we'll be ready to head on out."

Steph pushed herself to her feet, goaded by the sudden need that the memory of Joe's words roused in her. "Let's go. I want to wait with him."

"You sure?" Ram hadn't gotten up yet, and Steph turned towards him, her chin going down as she gave him a hard stare. "Looks like you're sure."

Heaving himself upright, Ram strode to the door, gathering up Hector on his way. Both men went out to confer with Woody still standing watch in the hallway. She heard their voices rumbling as they figured out the logistics of getting her to wherever Ranger waited without running afoul of hospital security and alerting anyone who might be working for the cartels.

 _Although if they've managed to track us here and get someone in position, we're worse than screwed._

Ram came back, shrugging into a jacket to cover the mess she'd made of his t-shirt. "Okay, this is how we're going to do it. Woody and Hector will take point, I'll trail behind. Keep moving, don't stop. Ranger's three floors up so we'll use the back stairs to avoid traffic. If something goes down, Hector and you will split off. Woody and I will lay down covering fire. You good to walk?"

"Better than good." Steph wiped the palms of her hands on her jeans, her mouth suddenly dry and her stomach regretting the sandwich sitting like a rock in the pit of it. Her head pounded a little harder and she winced, leaning over a little. At this rate, she'd pass out before they made it up a flight of stairs, and she didn't want the guys to be hampered with carrying her if things went south.

"You okay?"

Straightening, Steph took a deep breath and nodded. "Yep. Good to go."

"That's my girl." Ram blocked the door with his body, checking the hallway outside while Woody and Hector took up their positions. He stepped aside, just enough to give her room to slide through, then crowded close behind her.

The entire way down the hall, Steph was on pins and needles. They passed darkened patient rooms grouped in pairs with curtains around the beds and individual desks for the nurse outside each one, but didn't see any nurses or other patients. To all appearances, they were alone on this floor.

Woody took the corner ahead of them wide, placing himself between everyone and the next hallway as Hector went straight for a solid steel door and jimmied the lock on it.

The former gang member had it open within seconds, holding the door so Steph could see the well-lit stairwell beyond it. She headed passed through the narrow space between frame and door, and waited for Hector and Woody to get into position.

The Merry Men's boots thumped on the stairs, echoing upwards and off the hard-concrete walls. Steph breathed through the increased pounding in her head as they climbed, shutting her eyes a couple of times when the light hurt them too much.

Her breath came in gasps by the time Woody took the last step on the top floor. The landing here spanned the width of both flights of stairs with a standard iron pipe railing to protect the unwary from a plunge down a long, long ways. Steph stood to the side, between the concrete wall and Ram as Hector again did his thing with the lock.

The exit from the stairwell was into an atrium with double frosted glass doors to the left, a short corridor directly ahead and a larger waiting room with windows directly off that. A bank of elevators took up the wall to the immediate right. A page echoed over the intercom as they paused to regroup, but Steph still didn't see any evidence of staff or patients or even waiting family.

Hector motioned towards the double doors and they passed through them to an open room with glassed-in bays spaced along the left side. A nurse's station, staffed by three very formidable-looking women was to the right, within line of sight of all the bays and the patients inside. Junior and Hal stood guard outside the corner room directly inside the doors, blocking the clear panels with their considerable bulk. They stepped aside as Steph and her bodyguards entered the unit, and Ram gave her a gentle push inside.

Steph took two steps into the room and stopped, intimidated by the array of machines blinking and clicking on the wall above the bed. Ranger's eyes shot open, watching her in silence as he scanned her from head to toe and back again. She couldn't fault him for it—she was doing the same, checking the lines and tubing to see where he was connected. To her relief, the majority of the machines weren't hooked to him, just a single IV bag dripping merrily into the reservoir. His right arm was in a new sling strapped tightly to his body and his right leg was encased in a walking cast from mid thigh to well below his knee. Even better, someone had found a sweatshirt and pants that would fit over the cast. Ranger might be drop dead gorgeous without the clothes, but with them he was a step closer to the in-charge and completely healed man she knew and loved.

He held out his left hand. "Come here, Babe. You look like you've been through hell."

Steph grasped his hand in both of hers, glad that at least he hadn't decided to hold a grudge over the kiss in the jet. Or losing the game of texting tag.

"Babe, any time you want to kiss me, I'm not going to be mad about it," he said, amusement very much evident in his voice.

Steph blushed a little, letting her eyes fall to his hand so she could avoid looking into his eyes. Ranger saw too much and this was one time she really didn't want to explain Morelli's phone call.

"How'd the talk with Morelli go?"

 _Damn._

"Morelli thought it was you." Steph traced the deep grooves in his palm. "He…wasn't happy."

"Sorry about that." Ranger _did_ sound sorry, as if he could control Morelli's tendency to jump to the wrong conclusions and blame all of it on Ranger. "I should have had Bobby keep him in the loop."

"No, you shouldn't have." Steph contemplated her next words, trying to decide if she really wanted to talk about Joe Morelli. "He…didn't get any happier when he realized it was me and not you."

 _That_ little snippet of information made Ranger's body tense, and not in a good way. "And?"

Steph made herself look up, hoping that she could hide most of the hurt Joe's words caused. "The same old rant, same old orders. Same old, same old. He wouldn't even listen long enough to acknowledge that my life _might_ be in danger and that I _might_ be endangering others if I come home like he wants me to."

A growl from Bobby's corner of the room surprised her into silence. The RangeMan medic slapped the sheaf of paper in his hand onto the table next to him and got up with a quick, angry movement.

"I need to talk with Detective Morelli," Bobby said, his jaw clenched tight. "I'm tired of his assuming you are nothing to us. You are a member of this team, you are a _contributing_ member of this team, and he will damn well respect that or I will explain it to him in terms he _can_ understand."

"Bobby, it's okay. He said to give him a call when I grow up and decide to get serious about being an adult." Steph hesitated, then decided to skip over the part where he said she was nothing special. That hurt was still too close to home to easily shrug off.

"Babe," Ranger said, but Hector interrupted him with a short burst of Spanish. The former gang member and RangeMan's resident electronics expert handed Ranger a mini tablet and said something else, his tone sharp.

Ranger tilted the screen and scanned the information on it. His only outward reaction was a tightening of his fingers on the edge of the tablet, but Steph sensed the change in the atmosphere. The more Ranger read, the angrier he grew.

The alarm went off on his heart monitor and Bobby yanked the tablet out of his boss's grasp. "Okay, that's enough. Take five, Carlos, before the nurse gives you a sedative."

"She wouldn't dare," Ranger said, even as he rested his head against the pillows and closed his eyes. Nothing showed in his expression as he drew in deep breaths, holding them before releasing them slowly. Steph's heart pounded as a tiny tremor ran through her like a skittering mouse on ice cold paws. Another tremor joined it, and another, until she shook like a leaf.

"Oh, honey," said Bobby. He opened a cupboard and unfolded a blanket, draping it around her shoulders. Steph clutched at it, ducking her chin into the warmth in a bid to stave off the fear boiling and twisting in her gut.

Ranger lifted their clasped hands, and Steph looked up before she remembered to strip the emotion out of her face. His dark eyes softened, the anger from a few minutes before completely gone.

"Come up on the bed," he said softly. "Let me hold you."

Steph mutely shook her head, well aware she couldn't climb onto the bed without jarring his injuries. As much as she wanted to, she literally couldn't and that made her shake harder until her teeth chattered.

Ranger's mouth set into a thin line, another sign that he wasn't going to take _no_ for an answer. He increased the pressure on her hand, pulling until she had to get up or face plant. Since the only place she could land was dangerously close to Ranger, Steph chose to stand.

Only to have to sit down again when the room spun around her.

Once again Bobby stepped in. He gently lifted her out of the chair and placed her next to Ranger, settling her so she was comfortable. Ranger slid his good arm around her waist, pulling her closer to his body and guiding her head to rest against his chest with her ear over his steadily beating heart.

Listening to that even rhythm, Steph's nostrils flared just a little as she inhaled. Ranger usually showered religiously, especially after working out or being in the field. It was part of the price he paid for being CEO of a growing company; clients didn't like to think the person they dealt with did more than give orders and shuffle paper. Heaven forbid that he should actually sweat doing the field work that made his company successful.

But now…she inhaled again. The scent was a faint remnant of Bvlgari combined with his natural smell, the deep, seductive notes that always drew her closer into orbit around him, spiraling downwards for the hard landing on Planet Denial.

Her left hand rested above his immobilized right hand, just out of reach of his fingers. She burrowed into the space between his side and his arm, sighing a little when Ranger tightened his arm to keep her there.

"I missed this," she whispered. "I thought I lost you."

Ranger leaned over to place a kiss on the top of her head. "I know the feeling."

Steph glanced at Bobby and the medic winked at her before nudging Hector back to the far corner of the room. The tablet flashed in the former gang member's hand and Ranger stilled.

"Hector," he said in a don't-even-think-about-it tone. "Por favor."

Hector hesitated, then exchanged a long glance with Bobby before bringing the tablet back. Ranger shifted a little in the bed so he could take it with the hand curled around Steph, and he angled it so she couldn't quite see the screen.

"What is that?" Steph asked, not quite sure why it angered Ranger so much.

Surprisingly, Bobby answered. "Transcript of your call with Morelli."

"Wait, that's private!" Steph started upright and froze when Ranger winced and hissed in pain. Chagrined that she'd forgotten his injuries so soon, she eased back onto the bed. "Please don't read it."

Tears stung her eyes at the thought of Ranger knowing everything that Joe said to her. She didn't want Ranger to see the failure that was her life, especially in the eyes of the man who supposedly wanted to marry her because he loved her.

"I try really hard not to do stupid things," Ranger said quietly. He laid his cheek against her forehead, rocking her a little back and forth. "And when I _do_ screw up, I try to fix it as quickly as possible."

Her heart froze and Steph couldn't breathe. This was it. His _I don't do relationships/You need to repair your relationship with Morelli_ speech. Or the _Morelli is a good cop_ speech.

Bobby picked up a nasal cannula from the oxygen stand and held it under Steph's nose. "Breathe, sweetie. Watch me and take deep breaths and then exhale."

"I—"

Ranger set down the tablet behind her and gathered her close, ignoring whatever pain it might have cost him. "Breathe, Babe. I'm not going anywhere. None of us are. I'm done pretending, I'm done letting others hurt you when I can stop them."

"I don't—" She stopped, dragging more of the cool air into her lungs. Her head ached worse, and her thoughts spun out like a hot rod on bad tires. Steph scrunched her eyes shut and tried to sit up, wanting enough distance between them so she could think. Ranger grudgingly gave her less than an inch, but he didn't let go.

"Steph, Hector put traces on all of our phones to find out where the information was going. Once this crossed state lines, the federal government got involved, so he recorded everything to collect evidence. He reviews the calls and sorts them according to what's in them and where they go."

Ranger's fingers squeezed her shoulder once, cutting off her instant protest. "He wasn't tapping the line to violate your privacy. But when he read what Joe said to you, he thought we needed to know. You're too important to us."

"It's nothing he hasn't said before," she said, trying to defuse the anger coming off Bobby in waves. As close as she was to Ranger, it was the medic who seemed ready to do some damage to a certain Trenton police detective.

"Tell the other guys to come in," said Ranger quietly, and Bobby handed her the cannula before he left. His voice rumbled quietly outside, and then Ram, Woody, Hal, Junior and Manny filed into the room. With so much bulk crammed into the small space, Steph was glad she had the extra oxygen. Ranger, on the other hand, didn't seem at all affected as he relaxed back into the mattress.

He didn't speak right away, but when he did, his tone was that of a commander who could handle either the operation of a multi-state company or a squad of elite soldiers in a tight spot. "Initiate Code Papa Sierra Papa, effective immediately. Hector, encrypt the order with the appropriate tags and send it to the core team's phones. I want the legal department and my personal lawyer to move on it within twenty-four hours. Bobby, relay the change to my government contacts. They'll know what to do."

The assembled Merry Men broke out into grins that confused Steph completely. They weren't the expressions of amusement or an inside joke at her expense. Instead, they were broad, infectious grins of delight that brightened the dim room.

Ram stepped forward. "On behalf of the men, sir, we'd like to express our deepest commitment to carrying this through."

"Thank you," said Ranger. "I know you'll give it the highest level of attention and effort. Dismissed."

They filed out, once again taking up a guard stance in front of the glass walls. Ram flashed her a surreptitious thumb's up and Hal _wasn't_ blushing for once. Something had happened in the last few minutes, but for the life of her Steph didn't know what it was.

"There," said Ranger as he slid her closer again. "Taken care of. From now on, Detective Joe Morelli matters only as much or as little as you want him to."

The cannula fell out of her fingers, forgotten as she twisted to see his face. Ranger watched her with the dark eyes that always made her heart beat a little faster, and the twitch at the corner of his lips gave him a distinctively satisfied air.

Steph narrowed her eyes. "What did you do? Am I going to discover Joe's disappeared mysteriously and there are rumors he's been shipped to a third world country?"

Ranger tilted his head, one eyebrow raised slightly as he glanced down. She huffed out an annoyed breath but obeyed his unspoken request, carefully placing her head back on his shoulder. He sighed as she relaxed into the security of his arm and nuzzled her hair.

"I didn't do anything to Morelli," he said softly, "although there may be a certain conversation that will take place once we are back in Trenton. He _will_ understand that you are an important part of this team. You are _not_ entertainment for us. And I will not _ever_ pat you on the head like a dog. You are important to me."

"So what are you going to do?"

He laughed softly. "Quit being an idiot. Eliminate this threat against us. Give you the chance to fly."

"Ranger, this isn't your—"

"Yeah, it is." He shifted his weight, then yawned, something that Steph didn't think she had ever seen him do. "Rest, Babe. As soon as the test results come back, we'll be on our way. The sooner we're in the safe house with a stable perimeter, the sooner I'll get a good night's sleep."

He yawned again. She let the tension drain out of her body, concentrating on his warmth and closeness, willing herself to relax so he would sleep. Her thoughts still chased themselves as she tried to puzzle out the meaning of the order Ranger gave. It meant something to the guys, and obviously it was something they approved of wholeheartedly.

Ranger breathed out and Steph pulled her thoughts back. Bobby stood at the foot of the bed, watching them with an eagle eye. When she felt Ranger's arm settle heavily on her shoulder, the medic winked before going back to his stacks of paperwork. Hector worked at the little desk, jumping between the tablet and his phone while typing furiously and muttering to himself.

Snuggled close to Ranger's warmth, so close she felt every shift in his body, Steph let her thoughts empty out of her mind. All she wanted to know for these few minutes was Ranger. His scent, his warmth, his strength. All of his confidence in her, and his pride at how much she'd managed to accomplish in a few short years flowed across the connection between them. Ranger filled her world and for the first time in a long while, she let go of her fear and finally slept.


	14. Chapter 14

_All recognizable characters belong to Janet Evanovich. Completely Babe. Rated M for mature content, adult situations and language. Places, names and procedures have been altered to fit the story. All mistakes are mine. My deepest thanks to everyone who has read this story and those who have taken the time to review as guests._

* * *

"—evidence of fentanyl combined with alprazolam at two times the level of fatal toxicity."

The words drifted through her mind, weaving through the warm drowsiness of sleep until the last two words jammed into her brain. Steph fought her way out of the fog, pushing away the comforting warmth as that _fatal_ wrapped cold fingers around her awareness and submerged it into the icy tumble of every fear that had ever plagued her.

Drawing a deep breath, Steph pried her eyes open, only to discover that Ranger still had her in the circle of his good arm, holding her close to him while she napped. Even though it was opposite to the way they usually slept, it felt right to feel his body with every inch of her own, from where her head rested in the hollow of his shoulder to her toes tucked underneath his legs. She blinked a few times, then stretched carefully to let Ranger and Bobby know she was awake, just in case they didn't want her to overhear the rest of the report. Ranger tightened his arm around her and asked the next question.

"Have they gotten anything out of the nurse with the syringe?"

"Not yet." Bobby shuffled the papers in his hand as he moved from the foot of the bed to Steph's side. "Philadelphia police won't release her into FBI custody until they complete their investigation, so Homeland Security might pull the federal card. They have a few judges in the city on standby who worked with them before on cases like this. The DOJ is making noises about jurisdiction since you were the one targeted. I give them less than twenty-four hours before a federal agency steps in and takes over."

Ranger made a frustrated sound. "Have you talked to Sunshine yet?"

There was a pause and Steph turned her head to see Bobby watching her with an intensity that made her skin crawl. He glanced towards Ranger, then back at Steph in a silent reminder that she wasn't a part of that section of their lives.

"She's going to meet Sunshine if this keeps up much longer," said Ranger. "We're in a foreign but friendly country, and these people are after both of us now. No secrets."

"Your call." Bobby placed a reassuring hand on Steph's shoulder. "Steph, Sunshine is our…handler, for lack of a better word. He coordinates between the agencies who might contract for our services, and he makes sure that valuable assets to the United States are not thrown away for stupid reasons."

"So this Sunshine might be able to help out?" Steph asked, then turned her head into Ranger's shoulder as she yawned. "Sorry."

Bobby smiled for the first time since she'd woken up. "Yeah, sweetie, I think he already has. We're here because the Pentagon reached out to the Canadians, and our next ride will be courtesy of the Canadian Air Force. Now that we have the blood test results for Ranger and your MRI, we should be moving as soon as the flight crew is ready."

"Then I'd better hit the little girl's room." Steph glanced up at Ranger, and the warmth in his dark gaze as well as the slight upturn of his lips was better than a shot of espresso. "How do you want to do this?"

The intensity of his smile edged up a couple watts at the possibilities contained in the question, but fortunately for her hormones, Ranger decided to play things straight. He slid his arm from around her shoulders and she used the side railing and Bobby's hand to pull herself free without jostling him. As Steph's feet hit the ground, her gaze fell on the sheaf of papers in Bobby's other hand.

"I heard you talking about the drugs Ranger was getting from that nurse," she said. "What exactly were they again?"

Bobby hesitated, his eyes going to Ranger, but Steph didn't turn around. She knew Ranger would have his blank face on, shutting down the unproductive emotions to concentrate on the goal. _She_ was furious, and quite willing to fly back to Philadelphia and apply her own brand of persuasion to get both that nurse and the one who hurt Ram singing like a bird on a caffeine high.

"Nothing good," said Bobby finally. "They were some very nasty drugs that combined would cause lasting damage. It would have been easy to lay the blame on a dosing error, or an unfortunate interaction between medications prescribed by two different doctors."

"Hospitals have rules about that," said Steph. She shook her head at Bobby's surprised expression. "I know people who work at Helene Fuld and St. Francis. Nobody can just pull out a cocktail of drugs without there being layers and layers of double checks. Someone can't just waltz up to the drug cabinet and pick out restricted medications on a whim."

Bobby nodded, his expression no less happy. "You're right, Steph. The drugs didn't come from any of the suppliers the trauma center used. They were synthesized in a chem lab that the DEA and Homeland Security are very familiar with in Central America."

"And?"

He shrugged. "It's being taken care of. Sunshine doesn't like it when people target his assets, and he really doesn't like it when they try this type of shit in-country. So that lab is going to cease to exist in a very spectacular fashion and the word is going out that more things might be going _boom_."

"Does it make me bad that I want these people to pay?" Steph asked. "They endangered innocent people, and there are good people at the trauma center who have to deal with the fallout because of their greed or lust for power."

Ranger was the one who answered her, his voice warm and sincere. "You're a good person, Babe. Don't ever doubt that your first impulse is to protect the weak from bullies and the bad guys."

He crooked a finger at her, and Steph leaned closer to him. "I love you just the way you are, and the fact that you are willing to stand up for us with the Burg gives all of us hope that there is some good left in us."

"You are good men," she said fiercely, Morelli's words still burned into her brain. "I trust you, and I trust your men. Don't ever forget that."

Ranger's eyes darkened and she scooted backwards, out of his reach. _That_ look meant that she was about to be kissed thoroughly, and Steph knew it wouldn't be a short kiss on either of their parts.

"Raincheck?" she asked, just so he knew she wasn't opposed to being kissed, especially by him.

He nodded, watching her with the intensity of a hunter as she put more space between them. The corners of his mouth curved the tiniest amount, enough to let her know that he was curious about the reason behind her decision, and amused enough that he wouldn't forget to ask her about it later.

Steph made a mental note to keep her distance. Right now Ranger looked like he would pounce on her like a big cat on a hapless toy, and she wasn't sure they had either the time or the privacy for that kind of play.

And she certainly wasn't going to give the Canadian military the chance to bestow a uniquely north-of-the-border nickname on her.

"Bobby, you got a hold-out piece I can borrow?"

The RangeMan medic bent and lifted his pants leg and unholstered the .357 Glock that the entire core team seemed to prefer. He checked it over before handing it to her.

"You need a holster with that, Bombshell? Hector or Woody can probably jury rig something for you."

"I'm good for now," she said, sliding it into the pocket of her jeans. The grip poked out of it, but when she slid on a RangeMan windbreaker, the loose material covered it well. "I'll need something eventually, but since I promised Ranger to be armed, this will have to do for now."

Satisfied that she had observed at least the first point of Ranger's conditions for her continued presence on this trip, Steph blew him a kiss and hurried out of the room. The Merry Men still stood guard outside, blocking the glass panels with their considerable bulk. She paused in front of the line of men.

"Who wants to go with me?"

Hal heaved himself to his feet. "I'm next up, Ms. Pl-."

He broke off as her hands went on her hips. "Sorry. Stephanie."

"That's more like it." She let her eyes go down the line. "Anyone else want to make the run to the little girl's room?"

Hal choked a little, his fair complexion flooding with red from the neck of his RangeMan t-shirt to the tips of his ears. Steph bit down on the inside of her cheek, making sure that she didn't crack up. While it was fun to tease Hal about his midwestern sensibilities, Steph was too grateful for everything the man she'd once nicknamed Halosaurus had already done to keep Ranger safe to do any teasing now.

Ram relaxed out of his at-ease stance. "Don't worry, Hal. I'll make sure your virtue stays intact."

That might have been worth a murmur of laughter from the other guys, but they were silent as the two massively-built men took up bodyguard positions around Steph. She almost rolled her eyes at the overkill, but then remembered the nurse at the trauma center, and the homicidal rage of the man who broke into the safe house, and decided that she really wasn't all that embarrassed by having two guys like Hal and Ram shadowing her to the bathroom.

 _Wonder what kind of gasket Joe would blow on this one?_

That thought kept her occupied until they reached the hallway outside of the ICU. To the left was the private waiting room and a short hall with the restrooms at the end. A quick peek inside the small room as they passed showed it contained five people sitting at apart from each other while they watched the flat screen TV on the far wall.

"How do you want to do this?" Steph asked as they reached the end of the hall, her hand on the door with the female figure on it. Then she realized that it might be a good idea to figure out what the plan was before bulling her way into an unsecured room and took her hand away.

Ram crossed his arms over his chest, making the muscles in his upper arms and chest bulge out. "We can do this one of two ways. I check it out first, then Hal and I block the door while you do your thing, or one of us goes in with you."

If it was possible, Hal went redder. Steph pretended to think about it, even though she knew which option she would choose. In the not-too-distant past, she would have fought tooth and nail to walk through that door first and by herself. After being shot at, blown up and chased, Steph was ready to do whatever it took to keep the Merry Men safe and herself even safer.

"You choose," she said finally, surprising both of them. Ram's eyebrows crawled up his forehead and nearly kept going, and Hal shot a glance down the hallway as if he expected the four horsemen of the apocalypse to thunder through the building.

"You feeling all right, Bombshell?" Ram asked cautiously. He uncrossed his arms, dropping his hands so they were nearer to his weapons. "Did you hit your head or something?"

"My head is fine," she said, "but there are other things that aren't exactly happy right now, if you know what I mean."

Hal bolted into the women's restroom, hitting the door with a solid _thump_ that echoed in the short hallway. Steph jumped, slapping a hand to her chest to keep her heart inside of it, and even Ram flinched and had his gun halfway drawn before he caught himself. Sheepishly, he slid the weapon back into the holster and tried for the blank face as the sounds of Hal checking each stall and the air vents filtered through the door.

She didn't dare look at Ram, instead picking a blank spot on the wall over his left shoulder. She concentrated on it as hard as she could until the quivering inside that threatened to become hysterical laughter faded away. Her bladder wasn't going to survive something like that and she wasn't about to go looking for clean clothes if she could help it.

Hal emerged from the women's restroom, his face flushed a deep crimson. "All secure. No sign of hostiles or cameras."

"Thanks, Hal." Steph clamped her lips closed as Hal refused to look her way. Her insides gave a warning gurgle Steph didn't dare ignore and she hurried into the restroom as fast as Hal had come out, barely waiting for the door to close before she headed straight for a stall.

Minutes later, Steph emerged from the stall and went to the sink to wash her hands. Her reflection filled the mirror hung over the sink, and suddenly personal hygiene wasn't the most important thing in her life. She stood still, staring at the woman in the mirror who resembled an unlucky squirrel flattened and left for dead on the Jersey Turnpike.

The platinum blonde dye had settled in without streaks or fading. But her natural curls twisted the pale hair shafts, stubbornly refusing to stay straight even though Eirene had done wonders in such a short time. Those untamed curls shortened her hair enough that she looked like a four-year-old tow-headed boy, and her sight blurred for a moment as she wondered how Ranger could even bear to look at her.

Steph touched the tip of her fingers to her right cheek. The abrasion there was a patchwork of dark red scabs, starting from the top of the cheekbone and running down to her jawline. Bruises overlaid it, puffing out that cheek and making the jaw blend into her neck from the swelling. It wasn't warm to the touch, but there was enough heat that there would be some lovely additional bruising later.

A knock on the door interrupted her horrified perusal. "Steph? You okay in there?"

"Yeah, Ram. I'll be right out." She stared hard at the reflection, noticing the additional puffiness around her eyes from the lack of good sleep. Bobby still looked worse, and the strain was telling on the other guys with their assorted injuries, but that didn't make her feel better.

The hand dryer roared to life when she stuck her hands under the jet, blasting out hot air that ricocheted into her face. Steph blinked against the sudden heat, then swiped her sleeve across her face as her upper nasal passages decided to join the party and clog.

"Damn machines," she said just as it shut off. The words echoed in the sudden silence, bouncing off the tiles and the porcelain and throwing the faints sounds back at her. Scowling, Steph reached for the door.

Electricity jumped from the metal door handle, sizzling along the surface of her skin and jabbing needles of white hot energy into her nerve endings. Steph froze as the wave rattled through her arm, across her shoulder and landed squarely on the back of her neck, raising hairs and spinning rough shivers across her upper back.

 _Uh oh_.

Trying to breathe normally, Steph slid Bobby's holdout gun out of her pocket and tapped softly on the wood part of the door. "Ram?"

"Wait a minute," he said quietly, the words muffled through the thick barrier. "Get in the corner and wait for my signal."

The muzzle of the gun shook slightly as Steph obeyed without hesitation. She squeezed between the sink and the wall, bracing her forearms as she aimed towards the door. Her hands refused to stay steady as the adrenaline fed off whatever her body could throw at it to burn, and there was a thread of dull fatigue running through it that warned Steph her reserves were draining the last drops of energy she had left.

The door edged open a fraction. "Bomber?"

Ram peered in, his hands going up automatically when he saw her crouched in the corner with the gun pointed at him. Steph watched him shift gears and his grin of approval at her attempt to protect herself was almost as brilliant as one of Ranger's.

"Good job, Steph," he said. "Now you're thinking."

She shrugged, embarrassed by the praise, and cleared the gun before tucking it back into her pocket. "I hate being ambushed in the restroom. You'd think the bad guys could at least give a girl _some_ time to herself."

Somehow Ram kept his laughter inside, but she was pretty sure the quip would make the rounds throughout RangeMan faster than gossip in the Burg. Wisely he decided not to comment, holding his hand out to her. As he pulled her upright, Steph listened for sounds outside the room that would give her an idea of what was going wrong this time.

When Ram tucked her into his side away from the door, her suspicions grew stronger. "What's going on?"

"Could be nothing," he said, "or it could be something. One of the people in the waiting room acted off. It might be nothing or…"

"It might be something. My spidey sense went off about the same time."

"Shit."

"Probably," Steph said, her earlier nerves returning in full force. While she preferred action to sitting around waiting for the next shoe to drop or explode or whatever, the middle of a hospital in a foreign but currently friendly country wasn't the best choice for changing that.

Ram contemplated the ceiling for a moment, either looking for inspiration or asking for strength. Then he placed Steph carefully to the side and reached through the door to grab Hal and pull him into the room.

To his credit, Hal didn't yelp in surprise like Steph would have. He did turn a darker shade of red at being back in the women's restroom, but that was the only outward reaction he showed.

"Steph's got a bad feeling," said Ram quietly. "I'm alerting Alpha Team and we'll take it from there."

Hal nodded and took up position by the door, cracking it a little so he could keep an eye on the hallway. He blocked the back of the door with his foot so it wouldn't open too far and give himself away. That left Steph blocked in behind two rather large men and not much to do other than think and slowly grow more claustrophobic.

The ventilation system sounded loud as Ram's fingers flew over the screen keyboard on his phone, cursing every now and again as he deleted something and retyped it. After about a minute, he relaxed and straightened, waiting for the answer from the others.

The fidgets hit Steph two seconds later. Even though she _wanted_ to pace the entire length of the bathroom, she stayed still. Then her eyes rested on the tile blocks, and she considered whether anyone would notice if she pried them off the dry wall and chewed through the insulation and maybe a cinder block or two.

Or three. She wasn't in a position to be picky.

A loud bang sound in the hallway and she jumped. Her heart rate sped up as the adrenaline rush hit and Ram slid a hand around her upper arm, pulling her closer to both himself and Hal.

"That's our cue. When Hal opens that door, I want you to haul ass back to Ranger's room. Got it?"

"But—"

"No arguments this time, Bomber." Ram lifted her a little so Steph had to stand on her tiptoes to avoid dangling like a hooked fish. "I swear to you that I'm not a man to toss a woman around, but I will literally bowl you down that hallway on your ass if I have to."

Her breath huffed out quietly. Steph fought against the instinctive dislike of being ordered to do something, arguing with her perverse sense of independence that she had to actually still be _alive_ to assert it.

There was always something to be said for breathing.

"This time," she said, her eyes narrowing dangerously as she met Ram's determined hazel gaze. " _This time_ , I won't argue. But I promise you I will kick your ass if I have to tell Ranger why he's missing two of his men. And I won't be happy. Clear?"

"Crystal," he said. Hal threw a look at him and Ram nodded. Steph barely had time to set herself before the door was ripped open and suddenly she was in the middle of a maelstrom of shouts, bodies and _things_ moving so fast that she didn't process that they were already in the ICU before her feet touched the floor again.

The vise-like grip on her arm vanished and Steph skated across the smooth floor. She skidded and nearly over-balanced trying to make the turn into Ranger's room. Only…

It wasn't his room any more. The bed was empty, the machines completely silent and dark. The curtains had been drawn over the windows to block any light from outside. The closet door hung open, the empty hangars moving in faint air currents. Even the desk and the pull-out bed were clean of any pillows, clothing or papers.

Everything and everyone was gone. For one panicked moment, Steph felt like a child who turns around only to find herself far from home and everyone she knew vanished into thin air.

A strong hand clamped around her arm, yanking her backwards out of the room and towards the nurse's station in the center of the ward. Her feet tangled and she stumbled. Her captor hauled her upright, dragging her across the tiled floor. As they passed the nurse's desk, Steph kicked out, using the strength in her legs to knock both of them sideways.

" _Mierda_!"

Hector added a few other choice words she didn't recognize, and his grip on her arm loosened. He spun her around as he pushed her into an alcove behind the desk. Steph glimpsed a squad of heavily armed military guards taking up station just inside the ICU doors, then Hector slung her through the door behind her and the heavy click of an industrial-strength latch engaging cut them off from further chaos.

"Where are we—"

He shushed her with a finger to his lips and a shake of his head. Grabbing her hand, he pulled her with him, weaving dangerously fast through five-tiered metal shelves crowded with supplies and a long fluorescent bulb track above them.

Before she could gather her wits about her, Hector stopped in front of another heavy steel door. He put his ear to it, listening intently, then eased it open. He pulled her sharply after him, never letting go of her hand, and Steph bit her tongue before she could utter anything about being old enough to cross the street by herself, thankyouverymuch.

This door opened to a narrow utility hallway without doors or alcoves, just an occasional bare fluorescent bulb and no ceiling other than the concrete one above the pipes and electrical conduits. Distant banging echoed along the pipes, along with the faint sound of shouting, although Steph couldn't quite make out the words.

Her steps slowed and Hector glanced back, urging her forward to a very fast jog. The floor here was clear even if it was dimly lit, and her nap with Ranger and visit to the facilities had restored her enough that she was able to keep up, at least for the first few minutes.

Thankfully the hallway ended before her lung capacity did. Hector slowed as the voices grew louder and Steph clutched at his hand with both of hers, suddenly very much aware of her pounding heart.

The former gang member clasped her shaking hands, squeezing them in reassurance. When Steph's eyes focused on him and not the unknown beyond the door, he smiled and nodded. It wasn't a bear hug from Manny or even a mussed hairdo from Bobby, but Steph had seen Hector in action and knew he was a tough, wily street fighter who didn't walk into unknown situations without a plan. As long as she followed his lead, he'd take care that nothing happened to her.

In that respect, he was a lot like Ranger, and she suspected that was why the two men worked together so well. Ranger knew the value of a cunning mind, and he didn't care if that mind was housed in a former gang member's body or an Ivy League graduate's. He judged based on what a person chose to do and why, not on a list of credentials. That was all he cared about, even if the Burg looked down their collective noses and sneered at the men he chose to surround himself with.

The shaking stopped. Steph straightened her shoulders and pulled out Bobby's gun, determined that she would be an asset and not a liability. With Ranger incapacitated, the Merry Men needed all the help they could get, and she wanted to be a part of it.

Hector put a hand on the muzzle of the gun and pushed it down, shaking his head. For a moment Steph didn't process what his meaning was, but then she glanced at the door.

"You don't want me to shoot?"

He shook his head. "Correr rápido."

Spanish wasn't even her fifth language, an oversight Steph was fast bumping up her list of priorities. When Hector saw her blank expression, he sighed and dangled his first two fingers downward, flicking them quickly back and forth.

"You want me to run?"

He nodded, then flicked his fingers faster.

"You want me to run very fast."

That little bit of enlightenment earned Steph the pistol signal with his thumb and forefinger, and she stifled her giggle. For the number of times she'd been shot at and blown up in the last week alone, there was something both incongruous and particularly apt about Hector's favorite greeting to her.

The gun went back into her pocket and she checked her shoes to make sure they were still tight and wouldn't fly off in mid sprint. Swallowing hard, Steph wiped her hands on her jeans and took a few deep breaths to prime her body for the next adrenaline rush.

 _I've had so many of these that sooner or later I'm going to be as good as Ranger at riding out the crash._

He checked her one last time, then nodded and waited for Steph to nod back. Slowly, Hector pushed the door open, his body tense as he slid through the narrow opening. There was a pause that seemed to go on forever, then Hector stuck his hand back towards her and Steph grabbed it and held on.

His yank forward rocked her head back and Steph stumbled, bouncing off the door frame and nearly going down before Hector hauled her up and urged her forward. She caught a glimpse of a waiting area with floor to ceiling windows and bright orange, blue and green vinyl chairs, as well as a single uniformed security guard at the desk. He was standing up, one hand resting on the butt of his holstered gun and his other hand out of sight below the level of the service counter. He watched them as Hector pulled her across the hallway and through the first set of automatic double doors.

They cleared the outer doors into dawn air still night-cool with a sharp crispness that reminded Steph she wasn't in Trenton any more. The air in New Jersey never had this level of clarity, and not even the depths of winter could be this sharp with an ominous strength that promised weeks of unrelenting cold and snow.

A black SUV whipped into the parking area and screeched to a stop in front of them. Junior rode the running board on the front passenger side, braced between the roof and the open door. He jumped down before the vehicle jerked to a stop, jogging to the back and popping the hatch open.

Steph automatically veered in that direction, not even bothering to argue for the shotgun spot. Ranger and the Merry Men would want her somewhere more protected than the front seat, and she wasn't going to waste time trying to change their minds.

The early morning sun cast strong rays over the ground as it cleared the horizon, blinding Steph a little as she rounded the corner of the SUV. Junior wrapped a hand around her upper arm and hoisted her up as she jumped, and it was only as Steph landed on her knee in the carpeted back that she realized she wasn't alone.

"Babe."

Junior wasn't ready for her dead stop, and Steph certainly wasn't good enough to catch herself. The graceful scramble into the SUV became a slow-motion train wreck and in the end she was just glad that she managed not to land directly on Ranger.

Carpet burn layered over pavement burn hurt like a bitch, though.

The back hatch slammed shut, and Steph crawled up to where Ranger lay propped on the driver's side with pillows piled around him. A door slammed up front as Junior crowded into the front seat beside Manny. They'd folded down the middle row of seats to give Ranger enough room to stretch out and that put her directly behind Junior and Manny so she could hear the chatter from the radio.

A rush of air squeezed out of Steph's lungs as Manny sent the SUV careening around corners, blowing through stop signs and red lights. The Jersey part of her mind automatically tallied the cost of each traffic infraction in both fines and legal fees, and Steph instinctively winced.

"What's wrong?" Ranger asked, holding out his left hand to her. Steph inched closer to him, sliding her hand into his. It was warmer there even with the pillows between them, and she didn't feel quite so exposed, even though she and Ranger both were below the level of the windows. The folded Kevlar blanket was behind her, its heavy weight ready to cover both of them if needed.

"Babe. Talk to me."

"It's the money," she finally blurted out. "None of your guys work for cheap, and this has to be running into the hundreds of thousands of dollars."

Ranger was silent for so long that Steph feared she'd reminded him how much he valued the peace and quiet of not having to deal with her worry on a regular basis.

"We do what it takes, Babe," he said finally. "This is about RangeMan surviving to take the next job. And the reward money for some of the people and networks we're rolling up right now will balance expenditures."

He let go of her hand and slid his arm around her shoulders, pulling her so close that she could almost rest her cheek against his shoulder. Manny still drove like a madman, and Ranger winced as they bounced off a curb. The pained expression on his face decided her; Steph wedged her right knee under her body, raising it a little so she wouldn't accidentally bump into him.

"Steph, what are you doing?"

"Protecting you," she said, reaching across his body to brace her arm against the molded plastic underneath the window, forming a protective cage with her own body in case the SUV rolled.

"Steph, get down."

She turned her head, and couldn't help the tiny little quiver in the pit of her stomach as she met Ranger's hard gaze. His mouth was pressed into a thin line but her own determination burned just as hot.

"No," she said, making sure it was very clear and very distinct. "You want me under that Kevlar blanket? Then it's gonna be draped over both of us, because if this vehicle rolls, I am _not_ going to be the helpless little damsel in distress that you have to protect at all costs. _This_ time, I'm protecting _you_. I'm not letting you get bounced off something if I can help it."

"I—"

The narrowed-eyed glare she threw at him made Ranger reconsider what he was about to say. He studied her for a long moment with that intensity that never failed to make her feel like he saw all the way down to the bottom of her soul. Most of the time, Steph dodged that look. She didn't trust anyone enough to let them see everything, at least not since the unholy triumvirate of Dickie, her mother and Morelli had taught her the bitter lesson about the foolishness of that.

But something told Steph that if she wanted Ranger to accept her as a functioning member of this team, she had to trust that he wouldn't sabotage her every time she turned around.

 _Didn't love need trust to survive? Pity Morelli never read that memo._

So Steph squared her own jaw and gave Ranger the look right back, not trying to hide from his measuring regard. It seemed like it went on forever, then Manny bounced off another curb and Ranger broke the standoff, his complexion paling from the pain.

"Let me help you," said Steph. "Lean on me for a while, until you get your strength back."

She wasn't prepared for when he turned back. Ranger didn't do emotions. He was all about stripping the negative, non-productive feelings out of the equation and focusing completely and utterly on the end goal.

Apparently that feature in the Ranger universe wasn't working so well at the moment.

A touch settled on the side of her leg above her knee, scorching Steph's skin through the denim of her jeans. It trailed upwards to where Bobby's gun was still tucked snugly into her front pocket; the material shifted and the comforting weight was gone.

Ranger lifted the Glock between them. "I'll still protect you, Steph. Nothing changes that."

"Feel free to shoot the bad guys," Steph said, "and I'll make sure we don't get tossed around like romaine in a salad spinner."

"Babe."

Steph sneaked another peek at him and caught the tremor at the side of his mouth that meant she was amusing him again. "I knew the bark and twigs reference would make you laugh."

The SUV bucked underneath them and her hip rammed into the back of Junior's seat. She threw an apology over her shoulder as she scrambled to stay braced without slamming into Ranger every time the maniac behind the wheel decided to get creative.

"Flight crew's in position and ready for us, Boss!" Junior said. "Chase reports no tails. Do we go?"

"Yeah." Ranger raised his voice a little as the SUV's engine rumbled when Manny pulled more speed from it. "Tell Hal to take the first slot. We'll come in behind."

"The loadmaster is going to shit kittens," Junior said, leaning forward a little in his seat. From where she was perched, Steph could see his grin, and it was the kind that meant she was about to go for a rollercoaster ride that would make Six Flags jealous.

"Better the loadmaster than the flight crew." Ranger leaned back a little, checking the magazine on the Glock one handed. It wasn't his usually smooth and graceful motion, but even Batman would have problems after being flat on his back for so long.

"So, are we going on another jet?" Steph asked in a conversational tone. _Horribly cold weather we've been having lately. Do you think winter will be early this year?_

Ranger's grin told her that he knew exactly what she was thinking. "Babe, you're awfully blasé about this."

"Can you blame me?" she asked, letting her own smile slip through a little. "I mean, it has been a rather eventful week."

"Week's not over yet."

"That's what I'm counting on." Steph glanced out the window while she was talking, and the rest of her thoughts drained away. Manny turned onto the airfield and headed towards the giant planes lined up beyond the hangars.

"What are those?"

He followed her line of sight. "Transport planes. CC-177 Globemaster. We've hitched rides on them before. This time we won't be stuffed into one like sardines in a can."

"In a can that smells like one," added Junior from the front. He grinned at Steph and she smiled in return. While Junior hadn't been on Bombshell duty for a while, in the past he'd been a good sport about some of her wackier adventures, and he'd never made her feel small or useless.

Manny made a sound of agreement, reminding Steph once more that the Merry Men had traveled farther around the world than she ever hoped to, and seen things she couldn't even imagine. The SUV slowed as Manny ducked around the flight line, heading for an auxiliary taxiway where a behemoth waited with its back ramp down.

"So are we going to—" Steph cut herself off as her brain tried to deal with what her eyes were seeing. An identical black SUV was lined up with the ramp, its front wheels inching onto the sturdy metal. "You're _driving_ onto the plane?"

"Best way to go, Steph," said Manny. "They'll lock us down so the vehicles don't shift. Once we're in the air, we'll be able to get out and move around some. If Ranger hasn't pissed off the Canadians by now, you might be allowed to visit the flight deck. Plus they're nice enough they won't dump us out in mid-flight with nothing but a parachute."

Steph swallowed hard, her mouth dry. While she didn't enjoy flying commercial, she didn't know how she felt about flying military. Her sense of adventure might lead her to jump off a garage roof with nothing but a cape for a safety backup, but as an adult her sense of adventure knew when she was swimming with the big boys out of her depth.

 _There's something about being thrown off a bridge that reminds you of reality_.

Ranger grimaced. "Don't worry about it, Babe. They know you're a civilian and they won't make us jump to our next point of contact."

"How sure are you?"

He tilted his head, the shadow of an amused twinkle in his dark gaze. "Pretty sure. If it comes down to it, I promise I'll throw several of them out the hatch in retaliation."

Steph rolled her eyes. "I'm sure the Canadian military will love you for that."

"Babe."

Manny took a long, sweeping turn, lining up the SUV to come in right behind the first one. From this angle, Steph was able to see into the cargo area, where the ground crew directed it in. As soon as it rolled to a stop, they swarmed the vehicle, running thick straps around the undercarriage and locking them onto the deck of the plane.

Red and blue light flashed across her line of sight as another SUV pulled up beside them, the light bar on its roof going at full speed.

"Where—"

"Chase cars," said Ranger. He rested the Glock in his lap and took a deep breath. "Base security ran interference for us while they locked down the hospital."

"Did they get the guy?"

"Let's find out," said Manny. Rolling down his window, he beckoned to the uniformed guard riding shotgun in the other SUV. "Hey, any luck with the hunting?"

The man who climbed out of the SUV fulfilled every stereotype Steph entertained about Canadian men: blonde hair cut short balanced by a square jaw and sharp, pale blue eyes that missed nothing. He cradled a wicked-looking rifle in his arms, handling it with an expert ease. What she hadn't expected was the grin lighting up his face as he neared Manny's side.

"Did you ever doubt it, eh?" he said. "He sang quick enough when we explained that the Americans were sending a plane for him and we would be taking a long coffee break once they arrived."

Manny coughed into his fist to disguise his laugh. "Good going. Knew you guys weren't going to let the opportunity pass by."

The man nodded. His ice-blue eyes flicked from Manny to the back seat, meeting Steph's wide ones before shifting back. She wasn't quite sure, but there might have been the faintest wink as he did it. Her spidey sense wasn't pinging, and she instinctively knew this was one of the good guys.

"Colonel Manoso?"

Ranger stirred, grimacing a little as he tried to sit up. Steph repositioned herself hastily, scooting around so she could brace his body with her own.

That Ranger often carried her without problem was a well-known fact of the universe. No matter how many Tastykakes or Boston Crèmes she indulged in, he swept her off her feet and took her wherever she needed to go, never breaking a sweat.

The reverse, however, was definitely _not_ true. His greater mass and bulk squished her into the front seat, and she wedged her leg and hip to give herself more room to dig in. Her legs whimpered at the strain and Steph gritted her teeth, willing herself and her traitorous body to hold. The last thing she wanted was to embarrass Ranger and his guys in front of people they needed to impress.

The guard moved to the back window as Manny rolled it down from his arm rest control. His demeanor changed, going from friendly to formal, and the man threw a crisp salute at Ranger and held it.

Coolly, Ranger returned the salute with his left hand. It was as precise and smooth as if he was indeed a southpaw and not hampered because his dominant hand was still strapped tightly to his body. "Sergeant. We appreciate your help in shaking loose our little problem."

"Sir. I'm authorized to extend the commander's thanks for pulling this guy into the sunlight. We've been keeping an eye on him, but he's been like smoke. Nothing to hang on him and no way to find him."

"Glad we could be of assistance," said Ranger, sounding lightly amused. It was ironic, Steph reflected as her arm slowly went numb, that while he was in danger of flopping backwards onto the pillows, he sounded completely at ease. There was no strain in his voice or trembling in the broad muscles of his back that would bear witness to the monumental effort he was expending to appear normal.

A shout from the cargo plane caught the guard's attention. "Well, sir, looks like they're ready for you. Safe flight and a successful end to your mission. And thank you again."

He saluted again, and Ranger returned it. The window went up between them and Steph wondered how long Ranger planned on staying upright. Once the guard went back to his vehicle, he started shaking, breathing heavily with each gasping exhale marked by a wince. Even worse was the return of the grey pallor underneath his dark skin, and the lines carved deep around his mouth and nose.

He held the Glock out to her and Steph checked it before placing it in the compartment behind her. Steph braced Ranger as he eased back onto the cushions. He kept his eyes closed, fighting off the pain while she hovered beside him in helpless uncertainty.

Not for the first time in their acquaintance, she hesitated to touch him. But it hurt to see him in so much pain so she slid her hand under his. Ranger sighed at her touch, his fingers wrapping around hers. The harsh lines in his face smoothed out and his body relaxed, no longer fighting against the tight rein he kept on his unwilling flesh.

Steph settled herself as best she could, keeping her eyes open and watching as Manny lined up on the ramp into the belly of the Globemaster. If she dipped down just a little, she could see Bobby and the rest of the team climbing out of the vehicle already parked inside. Seeing them relaxed but alert reassured her, and Steph focused her attention on the man beside her, and the warm, comforting weight of his hand resting in hers.


	15. Chapter 15

_All recognizable characters belong to Janet Evanovich. Completely Babe. Rated M for mature content, adult situations and language. Places, names and procedures have been altered to fit the story. All mistakes are mine. My deepest thanks to everyone who has read this story and those who have taken the time to review as guests._

* * *

The drone of the powerful engines churned across every square inch of Steph's body, sinking into her bones from her big toe to her jaw until her teeth chattered harder than the time she went over the retaining wall into the Delaware River on an early spring day. She shifted in the cargo area of the SUV, trying to find a comfortable position that didn't entail burying herself beneath the blankets and thick coats piled around her and Ranger. But every time she moved, there was only a few moments of relief before the drone bounced her insides around like Jell-O in the hands of a sugar-crazed toddler.

Steph flopped onto her back and sighed, staring at the ceiling in a state beyond frustration. Beside her, Ranger still dozed in his makeshift bed. Hidden underneath the blankets, his fingers brushed against hers, maintaining that touch no matter how much Steph moved.

It hadn't been so bad when the flight crew locked the SUV down in the cargo hold and they'd waited while other crates slid into the open space beside them. But then the massive engines tucked under the wings fired up and the vibrations rattled through the cargo hold until Steph feared the SUVs would shake loose and roll out the back. Ranger took her hand in his, wrapping his fingers around hers with a reassuring strength.

She held onto him with a pitiful desperation as the plane thundered into the air, and it was only when Ranger's muscles relaxed as he slid into a light sleep that she convinced herself to relax as well. Careful not to disturb him, she pulled the blankets closer around her and Ranger and settled down for a nap of her own. At least, that had been the plan until the vibrations decided to wake her up and mess with her life.

Her bladder took that moment to decide there needed to be more complications, twisting into a tight knot with a very urgent need. She took deep breaths, trying to relax so the cramp would subside, but only succeeded in making her head spin. This time her sigh was more of a growl, and she shoved the blanket down and sat up to face the world with what was probably the worst case of bed hair she'd ever experienced.

"Babe."

Steph steeled herself and glanced to her right. Ranger shook his head slightly, a faint smile his only reaction to what was surely a truly horrific sight. He slid his hand free of the blankets and tucked a stray lock behind her ear, his finger trailing down the side of her face to her neck and brushing against the collar of her t-shirt before falling away.

"Hey," she said, her voice scratchy from a throat that felt like the Sahara after a seventy-camel caravan passed through. "Where are we?"

He glanced out the window to his right, where the packing crates blocked their view of the rest of the plane. "The last I checked, we crossed into Alberta heading north of west. We should land in a couple hours."

Steph gritted her teeth when she realized she couldn't hold out that long. "Um, does this plane have a bathroom?"

"Babe—"

"I _did_ go before we left, remember?" she said, sucking in a breath when a bolt of pain dangerously squeezed her bladder. "Do I need to remind you that's how we wound up in the back of this SUV?"

Wisely, Ranger declined to comment on that. He reached into the molded plastic pocket beside him and pulled out a smartphone. A couple taps on the screen and a phone rang somewhere in the depths of the Globemaster's cargo hold.

"Yeah?"

Bobby's voice didn't sound any better than hers. In fact, he sounded as bad as Lester had in the morning call at the safe house.

Before it blew up.

She said a silent prayer that the Globemaster wouldn't decide to follow that unfortunate pattern, especially not while she needed to pee so desperately.

"Steph's needing the facilities. You want to show her the way so she doesn't get lost?"

"Be there in a few." Bobby hung up and it was only a couple minutes before a shadow passed by the heavily tinted windows. The RangeMan medic opened the back of the cargo area, letting in a draft of cold air, and ducked underneath. "Let's go, Bomber. We're not that far out from the landing point. The sooner we're settled, the sooner I'm going to be out for at least twenty-four hours. You and Ranger will have to manage not to throttle each other for at least that long."

That little reminder of their ultimate destination piqued Steph's curiosity as she slid out of the SUV. It bounced a little as her weight went over the bumper, and she heard Ranger catch his breath.

"Sorry," she said, glancing over her shoulder.

"Not a problem, Babe."

Ranger's voice was strained, and the paleness of his skin gave the lie to his words.

Steph turned all the way around. "Liar."

His grin lit up the back of the SUV, not quite at full strength but still brilliant enough. "Smart ass."

"At least I'm not being a pain in yours right now," she said, giving Bobby a smirk.

"I saw that," said Ranger, but he didn't threaten her with revenge or payback, so she decided not to push her luck. Now that she was fully upright, her bladder was cramping dangerously and she glanced at Bobby with a panicked expression.

He shook his head slightly, but didn't comment. Instead he headed back around the end of the SUV. Steph followed him, but her hand came down on the side with a hollow _thump_ when she realized that the open space between the crates and the SUVs was filled with gear and sleeping men. Bobby nodded across the _very_ long length of the cargo area towards the walls near the front of the plane.

"Bathroom's that way."

"You've _got_ to be kidding. I can't climb over everyone!"

"It's better than the bushes on a stakeout," Bobby said. "And a hell of a lot better than what passes for bushes on the tundra. Don't worry about the guys. This is normal for us when we're traveling."

In the back of her head, Steph could hear her mother's _Why me?_ rattling around, but she silenced it. If Helen Plum knew half of the things her youngest daughter did in the pursuit of Trenton's less-than-finest through the underbelly of said city, she wouldn't be drinking while ironing.

 _She'd be changing her name and moving to a remote village in Tierra del Fuego._

A sigh escaped her. "All right. Where exactly am I going and how do I get there without trampling on everyone?"

"I'll go first and run interference," said Bobby, hiding his grin at the resignation in her voice. "Just follow where I put my size fourteens. If you run into trouble, stop and I'll come back and get you."

 _Trouble_? _What kind of trouble could I possibly—_

Another cramp warned her she didn't have time to quibble. Steph dusted off her hands and watched as Bobby edged sideways past a pallet of crates and containers, then paused by the front bumper and used a hand on the nearest crate to hop onto a bundle of gear.

For a moment Steph was back in her childhood, playing after school with Mary Lou in the park. Burg girls were admonished constantly to keep their school clothes clean, but both girls loved the challenge of finding new things to conquer more than they feared a mother's scolding. One day it might be cartwheels off a picnic table; another time it might be walking a tree branch like a tightrope. There'd been a few mishaps—torn hems, grass stains and ripped socks—but as Steph balanced precariously on the first stack of gear, she was at least thankful that her younger self hadn't been hampered by a screaming, full bladder threatening to embarrass her in public.

 _Growing older can be a real bitch sometimes._

Somehow Steph managed to follow Bobby without mishap. Hector and Junior looked up from where they were keeping watch in the web sling chairs hung along the sides of the aircraft as Bobby helped her over the last mound of gear. Woody and Hal were bundled up in parkas on the floor between the chairs and the last crate, and Bobby said something in a low voice as he stepped over them. Both men shifted position and offered a few extra helping hands to Steph as she made her own precarious traverse over them.

Two steps past the Merry Men was a narrow little door with the word _Lavatory_ stenciled on it. She darted past Bobby, grabbing the door and locking it behind her with one hand as she struggled to get out of her jeans with the other.

She was much more composed when she walked out a few minutes later. Bobby lounged against the front bumper of the first SUV, talking with Woody who was taking over Hector's watch. The former gang member rolled himself in a heavy fur parka and disappeared behind a mountain of gear, looking like just another lumpy duffel bag to the casual glance.

"Do you guys always use camouflage?" she asked as she approached the two men.

Bobby tipped her a tired smile. "Yeah, it gets to be second nature. Everyone wants a place where they can sleep without being stepped on, and usually the guys who move the fastest get the best spots. You ready to head back?"

"Yeah, sure." She glanced around the interior of the plane, trying to comprehend the hugeness of something that easily held two full-size SUVs plus crate pallets and enough gear to take out a small army and still make it into the air.

Bobby covered his laugh, turning it into a cough. "It flies very well, Steph. The pilots know what they're doing, and all of us know how to get out of a plane like this in a hurry if we need to."

 _That_ didn't sound like a scenario that she wanted to dwell on. So she gave Woody a finger wave and followed dutifully in Bobby's footsteps as he started the trip back. It seemed to go a little faster, and Steph gained more confidence as she navigated the piles and crates with increasing ease.

Or at least she _thought_ she did, until a bag shifted under her and she slid down the side onto the gear directly between the two vehicles.

"Hey, mind the feet!"

Steph yelped in surprise as Manny popped out of the middle of the pile. He was wrapped in two large parkas and his hair stood up on end as he pulled the hood off. Canvas bags created a nest around and under him, no doubt insulating him from the creeping cold and the vibration of the engines.

"What are you doing down there?" she asked.

He grimaced. "Trying to sleep. Those web slings chafe my ass and we can catch some shut eye without having to worry about being targeted."

"Keep it down, willya?" The mound of bags near the other SUV moved and Ram half-sat up from the middle of it. "Hey, Bomber. You tired of listening to Ranger snore?"

Steph shot a glance at the SUV where she'd left the man in question. "You guys sleep _under_ the vehicles?"

Ram shrugged as he started to work himself back into his previous position. "Better than the web slings and at least we don't get crawled over when someone has to use the head."

He winked and disappeared from view. Steph knew her face was turning red; it was putting off enough heat to raise the temperature in the entire plane. She glanced at Manny and got another wink for her effort. Wetting her lips, she jerked her head towards the SUV.

"Well, I'll let you guys get back to sleep. Ranger and I were just—"

Her face warmed even more before she could complete the sentence and decided that a retreat was her best option. Using the hood of the second SUV for leverage, Steph regained the top of the pile and rapidly followed Bobby to the back end without any more mishaps.

Keeping her eyes down, Steph carefully eased her weight onto the bumper and then crawled onto the cushions, careful not to jar Ranger. She knew he watched her, but she wasn't going to meet his eyes. Her cheeks were still warm, and one second of amusement in his gaze would embarrass her to the point that she would probably have to hike into the bush whenever they reached the safe house and build herself a hut to spend the entire time in self-imposed exile.

"Babe," he said, and her embarrassment almost spilled it of her in a torrent of words. But Steph glanced at the open back door and bit her lip. Bobby was still within earshot, and anything she might say would just add to the entertainment she'd already provided the Merry Men.

"Stephanie."

Reluctantly, she lifted her eyes. Ranger hadn't moved since she left; the pillows and blankets ensured that he would stay as still as possible, and the thought flew through her brain that his back and leg muscles must be killing him by now. He quirked a corner of his mouth at her in a self-deprecating grin.

"I've never willingly stayed still," he said softly, "but I'll do it for the right incentive."

The heat flooded back into her face, thinking of what was surely every woman's fantasy—Ranger lounging on his luxurious bed on seven at Haywood. The thousand count sheets marvelously rumpled, framing a delectable body that was meant to feast on. Dim light from the window throwing the hard planes of his gloriously muscled chest and arms into a feast of shadow and light. And his eyes, dark and burning with barely contained lust, watching as his entire body tensed with the wariness of a predator chained but not conquered.

 _Hmm. Silk ropes or…_

She blinked and lost her train of thought as Ranger's eyes darkened to midnight and his grin turned predatory. He blew out a soft breath.

Steph slapped her hands over her mouth, her eyes wide as she realized that she probably blurted out everything, and loud enough so every man on the plane heard her. For a long moment she stared at Ranger, and Steph noticed something else in the depths of his gaze, something that was stronger than his lust.

 _Yearning_.

Her head tilted to the side as her eyes narrowed in thought. Steph settled back on the blankets, her hands dropping to rest loosely in her lap. Ranger's grin was still firmly in place, but a hint of uncertainty disturbed the surface of his gaze, as if he wasn't sure how she would respond. Or if she wanted to respond.

Her body moved before her mind could stop her. Steph leaned forward until she balanced on her hands and knees, and she eased across the space separating them. Oh-so-carefully, she leaned in as close as she dared and touched the side of her head against his so her mouth was directly by his ear.

"Carlos," she said, and his breathing stilled. Steph moistened her lips. "I'm not sure I know _the right incentive_. Got any ideas?"

His breath rushed out of him on a sound that was both soft and intense. A touch brushed across her knee, cupping it in a caress that made her mouth go even drier. Then it slid up her leg and left a trail of fire in its wake.

Steph tamped down her smile and moaned as Ranger's hand kept moving in a most promising direction. Even though Bobby cut short the text game at the hospital, she knew she scored a few direct hits. The proof that she'd managed to get past his outer defenses was evident in how quickly he was on board with her current plan. Channeling the confidence from her dream, she pressed a kiss to the skin just beneath his ear.

A tiny tremor ran through his body, the faintest indication that she was getting to him, and his hand detoured from the outside of her leg towards the _exactly_ right destination.

"All right, Carlos! Time to take a walk!"

Bobby's voice shattered the spell between them, startling Steph enough that she whacked the top of her head against the ceiling. The impact reverberated through her skull and Ranger barked out a laugh that immediately turned to a wince and a groan.

"C'mere, Babe," said Ranger, sliding his arm around her shoulders. "I'll kiss that better for you."

The little imp was back and Steph smiled like a cat about to feast on fresh tuna. "I'd rather—"

" _Children!"_

This time the RangeMan medic used his drill sergeant voice. She didn't jump, but it _was_ loud. A laugh from somewhere in the plane's cargo area told her that the other guys could hear him, too, and had probably figured out what had incurred Bobby's wrath.

A grimace passed over Ranger's face and he released her. "He's not going to go away."

"Not even if we asked nicely?" Steph glanced at the rear of the SUV and found Bobby watching them with an exasperated expression and his hands on his hips. "Guess not. Rain check?"

"Oh, yeah," he said, his eyes dropping back to her mouth. "And I have a long, _long_ memory."

The promise warmed Steph in all the right places, so she grinned at him and carefully edged towards the rear. Bobby grabbed her around the waist, lifting her out of the cargo area and helping her stand on the deck. She was surprised to find Woody waiting just out of the way, a blank expression on his face but his hazel eyes dancing with suppressed amusement.

"Thought you might like to climb into the flight crew area and watch how they fly the plane while Ranger is hobbling around," said Bobby. "Woody will take you up there and make sure you get back safely."

Steph was tempted. While she wasn't the world's greatest flier, the opportunity to see the world from the cockpit of a monster plane like this was something she didn't think she'd have again. Then she heard Ranger suck in air as the SUV moved and she decided to choose the better path.

"Thanks, Bobby, but I'll stay and help. I need to see know what Ranger can do so I can help him do it."

"Babe, you don't have to—"

She turned around, putting a hand on the bumper so she could lean in close. "No, but I need to. I need to know where we are and where we need to be. My mind is made up on this, Ranger."

"Is it?" he asked, stopping in his slow inching towards the back long enough to raise an eyebrow at her. "I don't think you know what you're getting into."

"Didn't you once tell me you were a better man than Morelli?" Steph shot back.

"Shit," Bobby muttered behind her, but she didn't look away from her main goal. Ranger's expression went blank, his eyes cool.

"I did. Doesn't mean that—"

Steph held up a finger and once again he stopped, his jaw clenching but his anger otherwise under control. "Maybe I haven't told you explicitly enough, but you _are_ the better man. Better for me, better for your men. And since actions speak louder than words, I'm not just telling you. I'm showing you how much I appreciate your level of…more… betterness."

She stumbled over the last two words, pretty sure they hadn't quite come out the way she thought they would. Ranger's mouth twitched as his anger morphed into amusement while Bobby choked off a laugh. Woody tipped an imaginary hat to her and walked back towards the front, hauling himself over the crates and gear with enviable ease.

A whisper of sound was the only warning Steph had as a large, strong hand wrapped around her arm. Ranger pulled her halfway into the SUV, capturing her mouth with his and kissing her hard enough that the thrill of it shot through her body all the way to her toes. Then he broke it off, his breath coming in a groan that was equal parts of pain and frustration. Ranger let go, his hand instinctively curling towards his injured shoulder.

"Absolutely not." Bobby reached past her and clamped on Ranger's forearm, holding his fingers away from the joint. "If you're going to do stupid things, the least you can do is not make it worse by ripping the stitches."

An intense fire flashed in Ranger's dark gaze, and she watched in fascination as he wrestled it back under control. His arm relaxed and he drew a deep breath, his nostrils flaring.

"You get only so much leeway," he said in a low voice, only loud enough that Steph and Bobby could hear. "Remember that."

Bobby waited a half second before letting go. "I do what's necessary to fulfill my oaths. Don't get in my way."

Both men squared off for a moment longer, one that felt like forever to Steph who was caught between them. Then Ranger gave a short nod and Bobby relaxed. The medic stepped back, no longer squishing her against the bumper, and she looked up at the man who regularly risked everything for her.

Ranger turned his head away, breathing through his pain as he fought his rebellious body. She debated with herself for all of three seconds before she placed her hand over his where it clenched on the carpet of the cargo area.

"Not right now, Babe."

His words wounded her, but Steph shoved the pain away, aware that men like Ranger and Morelli hated to look weak in front of others. With his men nearby, that would be even more true for Ranger. So she removed the hand but not herself; if he wanted space to deal with the pain, she was willing to give it to him. If he wanted her to leave while he recuperated so she wouldn't see him at his worst, he was going to have to deal with the disappointment of not getting his way.

And at some point they were going to have to figure out a better method for Ranger to deal with the pain, because it cost her too much to simply stand helplessly and watch him struggle with it. By the time his body started to relax, her own ached from the tension of holding herself still.

"Is it okay?" Steph asked. Ranger glanced at her, then down at the hand she half-raised.

He nodded. "Yeah. It's okay."

When her fingers slid over his hand, feeling the raised lines of the tendons and the smooth muscle, it took all she had not to sigh and close her eyes. This was what she missed all those days when he was gone from her life—the physical connection that was everything safe and strong and right with her world. Sometimes it seemed Ranger was addicted to it and Steph admitted freely she was very close to addiction too.

And if she wasn't careful, her addiction to him would surpass her fondness for cake in all its wonderful forms.

Ranger chuckled, a short sound that warmed the chill in her heart. "Pretty sure I can do better than cake if I put my mind to it, Babe."

"I'm pretty sure you could, too." Steph allowed her fingers to slide up his wrist to his forearm, trailing her touch across the smooth skin and watching the goosebumps appear in their wake. "And I'm pretty sure I'll enjoy your efforts getting there."

"I have absolutely no problem with getting a bucket of cold water from the galley," said Bobby, and Ranger laughed.

"We'd better get this done, Babe. I wouldn't put it past him to do it."

Steph threw a sideways glance at the medic, who merely smiled and shook his head. The moment of levity passed when Ranger eased his braced leg over the back bumper and leaned dangerously as he tried to balance between the good side and the added weight on his bad one.

"Right, Bomber." Bobby held up a web strap with a slide buckle on it. "Help me get this on him and we'll take a jaunt around the cargo area so his muscles don't atrophy on us."

Steph took the strap, already working out how to thread the end under Ranger's arms without tipping him over. It took her a few moments to realize that while she tugged on the strap, Bobby still hadn't let go. She glanced at the medic and found him watching her with a shrewd, knowing glance.

"That's not going to work," he said, and she puzzled over his meaning before her cheeks flamed red as realization dawned. A peek at Ranger showed that his mind had gone in the same direction and she let go of the web strap like it burned her hands.

"Right," she said, her cheeks growing even hotter. Hastily Steph shuffled out of Bobby's way, wondering to herself if she would ever get her mind out of the gutter.

"I certainly hope not," said Ranger, and threw her an unrepentant grin. He balanced precariously on the back bumper while Bobby adjusted the strap around his waist then stared at the back hatch of the plane as the RangeMan medic reached around the corner of the SUV and pulled out a wheeled walker. His expression wasn't blank, but there was a steely-eyed determination and set jaw that told her more than words could how many times he'd been through this same drill, and how difficult this part of the rehabilitation process was for him.

Bobby placed the walker in front of Ranger. "Okay, you know what comes next. Steph, since he can't balance on the right, I want you to walk behind him on that side and use the strap to steady him. If you feel yourself getting into trouble, tell me. Don't tough it out. The last thing Ranger can afford right now is a fall."

"Got it, boss." She tried to throw a salute without poking her eye out or whacking herself in the head.

"Smart ass," said Bobby without rancor. "You ready?"

"Ready," Steph said, inwardly praying that she was.

Ranger blew out a breath, a quick exhale to steel himself for the next few minutes of torture. "Yeah, I'm ready."

The walker rattled as he shoved it forward, and Steph found herself bearing more weight than she thought possible and determined more than ever to take whatever was needed to get the job done.

She'd do it, not for herself, but for Ranger's sake. Everything and anything he needed, she would give without hesitation or thought.

 _No price._


	16. Chapter 16

_All recognizable characters belong to Janet Evanovich. Completely Babe. Rated M for mature content, adult situations and language. Places, names and procedures have been altered to fit the story. All mistakes are mine. My deepest thanks to everyone who has read this story and those who have taken the time to review as guests._

* * *

Ranger eased into the back of the SUV, sweat running down the side of his face. Sweat plastered his hair to his forehead and his t-shirt to the front and back. His breath came in deep, rasping gasps, and each exhale tightened the lines of pain around his mouth.

Steph leaned against the bumper, her own chest heaving and the sweat already drying sticky to her skin. At that moment, with her legs weak from exhaustion and her arms aching from the effort of steadying Ranger in the one tortuously slow trip around the small space, she would have gladly traded all of it for a five mile run.

"Up you go, Bomber." Bobby placed his hands on her waist and easily hoisted her into the cargo area, steadying her until she could scoot farther in. "Take the gait belt off, would you? And no funny business. We're about thirty minutes from landing. I'll get the guys locked and loaded, Boss. We'll hit the tarmac at full speed."

"Good." Ranger managed a thumb's up, but that was about the extent of his strength reserve.

Bending over him, Steph worked on the buckle where it was partially hidden under his hip. Ranger tried to roll part of his weight off it to help, but he groaned and stopped.

"I can get it," she said, her fingers teasing the end of the web strap through the metal teeth. "Just give me a minute and concentrate on breathing."

"That's…usually my line."

She slid the web strap out and then helped him get into position with the pillows piled around him. While the exertion of hobbling, even with the walker, had soaked them in sweat, now that they were sitting still her skin was starting to cool. She couldn't even imagine how bad it was for Ranger, between his injuries, exhaustion and the cold.

On impulse, she pulled the blanket over his lower legs and then shook out the parka and tucked it around him. "Better?"

Ranger shook his head. "No. It's missing something."

From the way his eyes darkened, Steph knew his mind went straight back to the gutter she was trying so hard to climb out of. She slapped his good shoulder, careful not to put too much force behind it.

"I can't believe you're thinking about that," she said. "You're injured and barely able to walk and you want to get freaky?"

He breathed out a laugh. "I'm a guy, Babe. Every time you're within reach, I think about it."

The confession, so simple and direct, sucked the amusement out of Steph. "That's why I'm your weakness. I distract you, and then you almost die on me."

"Hey, no." Ranger tried to get his free hand out but she'd tucked the parka in too tight and he had to stop when the movement jarred his shoulder. He breathed through his nose for about thirty seconds, a half minute that seemed like an eternity to Steph, but then he gritted his teeth and managed to work the edge loose.

Holding out his hand to her, Ranger waited until Steph slid her fingers over his. "Snuggle in here, and I'll try to explain."

As she crawled under the parka, pulling hers over her back so they were in a cocoon of warmth, Steph tried not to think about the feeling humming through her body as Ranger pulled her close to his side, his arm warm and heavy down her back and his large hand curved over her hip. While she and Connie and Lula often joked about the force field that Ranger seemed to throw out just by being the sexy, lethal badass mercenary, she knew she was the only one of the three that knew up close he was even more dangerous.

Dangerous to her dreams, and dangerous to her heart.

"This is nice," Ranger murmured. He rested his cheek against the top of her head, and shifted so there was no space between them from her chin to the tip of her toes. If he hadn't been injured and they weren't currently in the back of an SUV with Merry Men well within earshot, Steph might have been tempted to crawl on top of him and show him exactly what she thought was 'nice'.

 _Okay, I'm still tempted. But I'm not going to act on it._

"Steph?"

"Hmm?" Her spidey sense was going off, and it wasn't because they were going to be shot out of the sky by an international smuggling ring or drug cartel. Steph knew that tone of voice; she'd heard it the morning after she first slept with Ranger, and she'd heard variations of it when he mentioned paying a price to be with her.

"Marry me."

" _What?"_

He laughed, a happy sound that she rarely heard from him, especially in the middle of a shit storm like this. "Now that I have your attention—"

"You bastard," Steph said without heat, still trying to get her heart rate back to normal. "You know I hyperventilate at the mere thought of getting married again."

"I'd like to think that I could tempt you to think about setting foot in a church for the purpose of getting married," Ranger said, and if Steph didn't know better she would have sworn he sounded wistful. "But I know you need more than what I can give."

"You keep saying that," Steph said. "I don't understand how you can't see what a good man you are. You've warned me more than once there are big bad things in your past, but _it's in the past_. What I see here and now is a man who cares about the people close to him and for some unknown reason seems to think I'm worth looking at twice."

"Steph. Babe."

"No." She propped herself on her elbow so she could see his face. "You keep supporting me and encouraging me and giving me everything except the answer of _why_? You give me the men and the training I need to stay safe while I'm doing a job no one thinks I'm qualified for, but I've done nothing to earn that kind of help. _Why do you love me?_ "

"How could I not?"

Her jaw dropped as all the arguments she'd ever had with Morelli and her mother ran through her head. It was difficult to know where to start in listing the reasons why Ranger could do better than her. Number one was the instant savings on car insurance, and a close two was never having to worry about where she was and who was after her.

Gently, Ranger leaned up and kissed the corner of her mouth. He took a slight detour on the way back, nibbling on her bottom lip and tugging it slightly before resting back on the pillows.

"Steph, you underestimate yourself. You're kind and compassionate, and fiercely loyal. You don't back down and I've never been so turned on in my life as when you walked into that night club in New York and challenged the entire room to look away."

Something deep inside of her, the part that kept replaying that dream, wanted to believe him. But Morelli's voice echoed in her head, joined by her mother and the wagging tongues of the Burg. And the overlay to all of it was the moment she turned around in the parking lot and saw Ranger kneeling on the pavement, bleeding heavily.

A touch ghosted over her back and Steph closed her eyes. "You almost died."

"But I didn't."

"I'd do anything to keep you safe." Steph opened her eyes, meeting his dark ones with a steadiness at odds with the shaking in the depths of her heart. "I can't lose you."

"My thoughts exactly."

The tears she hated stung her eyes and thickened her voice as Steph looked away. "Tell me there's a way I can keep you. Tell me that I can stay a part of your life, even if it's what we had before, where I wouldn't see you more than once a week. If that's all I can have, then I'll take it."

The moment of silence that followed her words broke her heart all over again, and Steph bit her lip, willing herself to be strong. She could do it, at least for a few minutes longer. Then there would be an explosion, or they'd be attacked by parachuting bad guys trying to board them like airship in an action adventure movie or—

"Babe, look at me."

Mutely, Steph shook her head. "It's better if I don't. Then I can't tell if you really mean it when you tell me I'm not good enough. I can't—"

Ranger moved his arm, looping it over his head, and Steph sucked in a breath at the loss of the comforting weight. Then he awkwardly slid his fingers under her chin, urging her to turn back to him.

"I really need you to look at me," he said softly, "because _I_ need to see that _you_ really mean the answer to the question I'm about to ask you."

Reluctantly, Steph turned her head. Ranger's gaze was intent as he searched her face. A muscle ticked at the corner of his mouth, and for a moment the darkness swirling in the depths of his eyes flared, as if gathering itself for a fight.

"Stephanie."

 _Oh, shit._ _Here it comes._

"I love you."

"But—" she prompted when he didn't continue.

Ranger's mouth turned up a little at the corners. "I love you. Plainly, simply. No qualifiers, no conditions, no hesitation. I'm not going to ask for a full commitment from you, because I don't think this is the time, but I need to know if you love me."

That part was easy. "Yes."

His smile grew a little more pronounced. "Do you love me enough?"

"Enough?" Steph repeated, her heart sinking a little more. She knew she didn't love Joe enough to become the woman he wanted her to be. And Ranger's life was so different, so far above hers, that she didn't think she was capable of reaching where he'd expect her to be. "Enough for what?"

"Enough to stay with me until this whole fiasco is wrapped up. Do you love me enough to stay close and not run? To train and stay in shape while I rehab?" Ranger touched her mouth with his thumb, soft as a butterfly's kiss. "Can you find it in you to love me that much?"

That single touch burned all the way down to her chest. Steph didn't know which hurt worse—the feeling of his finger brushing against the softness of her lips, or the twisting in her heart at the hope she saw deep in Ranger's gaze. He was a badass, former special forces mercenary slash security expert; realizing that even with all his skills and money that he would want what she had to offer was close to unbelievable.

Steph blinked, shaking her head a little to break up the numbness in her brain. "I can love you that much. Even if you didn't want me, I would love you enough to stay with you for the duration of whatever this is. Ranger, I won't leave you alone to face this by yourself."

"Thank you," he said, making it sound like she'd just unwrapped the Hope Diamond and passed it over to him. Ever the consummate charmer, Ranger picked up her hand and raised it to his lips, planting a gentle kiss on her knuckles that made her mouth go dry.

Ranger watched her, the faint smile on his lips a very real indication that he knew _exactly_ what he was doing to scramble her brain. "I will do everything in my power to make sure you don't regret this."

"I'd say the same, but I'm pretty sure at some point you're going to regret not shipping me off to that other safe house where it's warm, near a beach and half a world away from you."

 _That_ pulled a bark of laughter from him, then a groan when it jarred his body. Steph went immediately on the alert, poised to call for Bobby if Ranger needed the medic. It wasn't until he relaxed again, reclining against the pillows and breathing through the last bits of pain with his eyes closed that Steph was able to relax, too.

"I hate this," she said softly. "I hate these people who hurt you, and Manny and Ram. They hurt Lula and Connie, and endangered so many innocent people, and for what? Power? Money?"

This time the quirking of his lips had nothing to do with amusement. Ranger held his hand out to her and she took it, letting him draw her down next to him so she was snuggled into his side again.

"You," he said. "Our information from Stark was that you were the original target. A 'businessman' traveling with his entourage saw you at the club and was offering money to any of the gangs who would grab you off the street and bring you to him. From there it's anybody's guess, but most likely you would have been smuggled out of the country and held at a remote estate in a friendly country until he tired of you."

The chill that raced over her had nothing to do with the outside temperature. "But why? There were women in that club who were much better looking than I was. For that kind of money, I'm sure he could have found one of them to go with him. Willingly."

Ranger shrugged, the barest movement of his shoulders. His hand once again rested on her hip, and Steph had the feeling that if he had the use of both his arms, she might have been continuing this conversation in a whole different position. And the probability that the conversation itself would be interrupted was very, very high.

"Hard to tell, Babe. You draw the eye—you're full of life, and laughter, and you have a confidence when you walk that makes men think about things they shouldn't."

Steph rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right. Because it's _so_ sexy when I mooch food off my parents and cars off you because I can't pay my bills or support myself."

"Stephanie." Ranger's voice dropped deeper, rumbling through his chest. "Don't sell yourself short."

She was quiet for a moment, struggling with the automatic reflex that triggered more often lately. The _I'm a complete disaster_. The _I can't do anything right_. And the perennial favorite _it's not my fault_. Perfectly timed, of course, to ensure everyone knew that in reality, it _was_ her fault.

Even if it wasn't.

Because to a lot of people in the Burg, it already was.

"Ram said I could choose my own future," she said, "and if I choose what I want, then I can figure out how to get there."

"That's good advice. Do you know what you want?"

"You."

The word slipped out before Steph could stop it. She went still, her muscles frozen with the fear that Ranger would do exactly as Morelli warned her.

 _He'll pat you on the head and send you home._

The defiant part of her, the one that aimed for Joe Morelli with her dad's Buick so long ago, finally spoke up. _Ranger said he would never pat you on the head or treat you like a child or a dog. Bobby was willing to chew Morelli's ass for what he said. And Hector would probably pay Joe a visit in the dead of night with his knives._

"I'd be visiting the cop and it wouldn't be in the middle of the night," said Ranger. He nuzzled her tousled blond hair. "I love you, Babe, and that means I protect you. Body, heart and soul."

He sighed, his arm tightening around her. "Once we're settled, I'd like to put aside some time to talk. We need to be on the same page, and after we go over the intelligence from Tank and Lester, we'll have to make plans as to make sure these bastards don't come after you again."

"Is the plan going to involve shooting?" Steph asked, fighting back a yawn.

"Probably."

"Explosions?"

Ranger laughed softly. "We'll try to avoid those if we can. Too much mess to clean up afterwards."

Steph sobered abruptly. "I'll need to call my parents, and I'd like to talk to Lula and find out how she is doing. And I should probably call Morelli again so he knows that I don't want what he's offering me."

"Wait on the Morelli call, Babe. Give yourself time to think everything through before you close the door on anything. You need to be sure about what you want."

"Who," she said firmly, her hand on his chest drifting upwards across his t-shirt. Steph's eyes slid closed as she concentrated on the warm, solid muscle underneath the cotton. Normally her first choice with Ranger was to head in a southerly direction, but they were still on a cargo plane somewhere over Canada, and she didn't want to find out if Bobby was serious about the threat of dousing them with cold water.

Her index finger touched the hollow of his throat and slid to the side to where his pulse beat fast and strong. Greatly daring, Steph let her fingers drift across Ranger's jaw, the prickle of stubble tickling her sensitive skin.

"Babe, what are you doing?"

Steph smiled and placed a kiss above his heart. "Memorizing you. Touching you. Convincing myself that this is all real and not some dream."

A thump against the side of the vehicle startled her badly, but Steph managed not to jump. Her heart rate sped up as a dark shadow came around the side and became Hal leaning down to peer into the cargo area.

"Sir, we're inserting into the landing pattern for the airfield. Bobby said to get you both strapped in."

"Everything set on the ground?" Ranger asked as Steph carefully pulled away from him. "Did Hector get the surveillance equipment he requested?"

"Yes, sir. Packed and sitting in the hangar waiting for us." Hal kept his eyes on everything except Steph, staring at a point somewhere past the front windshield while answering Ranger's questions. "Hector doesn't want us using GPS or any locational apps on our phones until he upgrades the software."

Steph dug into her hoodie and pulled out Ranger's phone. "Take this to Hector and have him work on it first. Ranger will need it back in action before anyone else."

"I have a phone," he said, pointing to the one still in the side compartment of the SUV. "Hal, tell Hector to switch Steph's phone number over to the one she has and load all of our software on it. He's to make it as untraceable as possible, legal or no."

"Yes, sir." Hal took the phone and disappeared around the corner of the SUV. He edged past the windows with a speed that made Steph wonder exactly how he could navigate the narrow space between the vehicles and the pallets of gear. While she wasn't fashion model thin, Hal was built like a small truck.

And he hauled loads like one, too. She still remembered the time he removed Joyce Barnhardt's car engine by himself.

On a bet.

For a hamburger.

"I never asked you if that hamburger was worth the bet," she said as Hal paused by the driver's side. Another shadow met him and disappeared towards the front of the plane, where she'd last seen Hector.

Ranger looked down at her quizzically. "Hamburger?"

"When Hal removed Joyce's engine."

His expression cleared, becoming a placid version of his blank face. "I never asked. Technically, that bet was completely under the table and I officially have no knowledge of it."

Steph pursed her lips, watching for a break in his expression. Nothing. His dark eyes were completely calm and there wasn't even a _hint_ of a smile on his lips.

"And unofficially?"

Ranger smiled faintly. "It was worth it."

Hal came back, standing at the bumper. Steph glanced at him and he blushed a faint red.

"Can I help you strap in, Ms. Plum?"

"Steph, Hal. The name is Steph or Stephanie or even Bombshell. You've checked out a women's restroom for me. I think that qualifies you to use my first name." She grinned at him as she said, just so he knew she wasn't irritated with him. "And yes, you can help me after we get Ranger situated. That way I can move out of the way if you need me to."

Hal's fair skin may or may not have gone a darker red at that, but it was hard to tell in the lower light. Steph chose to ignore it, and instead concentrated on helping where she could to get Ranger into a comfortable position on the pillows and then use the cargo straps as seat belts so he wouldn't injure himself as they unloaded from the plane once it was on the ground.

Her part of the strapping in went a lot faster, and Hal thoughtfully covered them with the parkas and then the Kevlar blanket before shutting the back hatch. Laying on her back under the double layer, Steph tried to empty her mind and listen to the sounds of the other Merry Men checking the cargo straps keeping the SUVs and other pallets in place. Her thoughts wouldn't cooperate, though. Like a lodestone to the magnetic north pole, they oriented inexorably towards the man lying next to her.

The blanket shifted and cooler air sifted across her right arm. Then warm fingers brushed against her arm before following it down to her hand. With a deliberate, maddening slowness, Ranger wormed his fingers under her hand and enclosed it into a gentle clasp.

"What are you doing, Ranger?"

"Nothing."

Her spidey sense went immediately on guard. Playful Ranger was trouble with a capital T, even when she was well-rested, well-fed and on top of her game. At the tail end of a week like she'd had, there was an even chance she would either melt into a puddle of goo or forget he was injured and get doused with freezing cold water by an irate Bobby.

 _For once be who you've always wanted to be_.

The person she wanted to be didn't doubt what Ranger told her, and clearly understood everything that he and his men did for her. The woman she wanted to be was open to what Ranger offered, and was more than willing to accept that he loved her in the only way this quiet, driven, intense, proud man could.

Steph's fingers curled around his, her smaller reach not even getting halfway around his hand. The roughness of the calluses scraped across her skin and a tiny shiver delicately shook across her shoulders and upper back.

"Cold?" Ranger asked, even though he didn't let go of her hand. He wasn't going to let go, either. That Steph recognized because she tried to pull her hand away and he tightened his grip instantly.

"Are you going to let go?"

"Never."

His voice was dead serious, and Steph had to fight down a giggle at the sudden thought of Ranger following her everywhere, attached to her hand. It would make talking to Morelli awkward, and she was pretty sure Edna Mazur would take full advantage of his lack of maneuverability.

"What are you laughing at?"

Steph snickered. "Grandma."

He blew out a sigh. "That would be cruel, Babe. And you know I'd get even."

Her grin widened as her mind went straight into the gutter and happily wallowed there. She was back to the question of whether silk was a good choice when the plane dropped suddenly and she swallowed hard, all thoughts of Ranger and happy times vanishing until she was back on solid ground.

"It's okay, Steph." Ranger squeezed her hand. "These guys are good. There will be some bumps as the pilot lands and then we'll taxi to the hangars and unload. I'm right here, and so are the other guys."

"That's good, because I'd hate to have to go looking for any of you on this plane." They dropped again, just enough to make her stomach twist on itself. "You never know if I'm going to open an outside door while looking for the broom closet."

"You might want to remember broom closets," he said, and drew a circle on the back of her hand with his index finger. "I'm thinking I'd love to explore a few with you, once we have the chance to clear the air between us."

 _Annnd the hot flashes are back again._

The SUV rocked a little and she squeaked as the driver's side door opened. The passenger side opened a half second later and the vehicle rocked again. Steph used her free hand to push the blanket down enough so she could see, tilting her head so her eyes weren't rolling all the way back in her head.

Manny tapped her on the nose with his index finger. "Hey, wifey. This guy treating you right?"

Ranger growled low, and Steph tightened her grip on his hand as she answered. "Of course he is. You have a good nap?"

"Nothing like the sweet drone of heavy engines to fall asleep to."

"And the comfort of knowing you're not jumping out the back hatch into the middle of the ocean when you wake up," Ram added from the shotgun position.

They fist-bumped in silent agreement, and Steph chanced a look at Ranger. He was staring straight up at the ceiling of the SUV, seemingly unaware of his employees' banter. Then his dark eyes flicked towards her and one eyebrow went up fractionally—the Ranger equivalent of enthusiastic agreement.

 _Evidently Batman isn't as gung-ho about some things as I thought._

The plane shuddered and Manny drew the blanket back over Steph as everything tilted dangerously. She sucked in a breath. They were close to being back on _terra firma_ , although she had no idea where and absolutely no idea what was going to happen next.

 _Welcome to Stephanie Plum's life, where the explosions are constant and the next few minutes are anything but boring._


	17. Chapter 17

All recognizable characters belong to Janet Evanovich. Completely Babe. Rated M for mature content, adult situations and language. Places, names and procedures have been altered to fit the story. All mistakes are mine. My deepest thanks to everyone who has checked back over the last few months and my hope is that updates will be much more frequent in the weeks to come.

* * *

 _Boring is good. Boring is good. Boring is—_

Steph's eyes crossed and her head nearly fell back against the seat. She caught herself before she went over the edge into sleep, then furtively checked the rest of the occupants of the SUV to make sure no one had noticed. Ram had taken over from Manny about two hours ago, after they stopped at a little gas station in the middle of nowhere. The stooped old man in a red plaid flannel coat who shuffled out to pump their gas hadn't blinked twice at four black SUVs filled with muscled men and one lone woman, and he'd accepted the cash payment plus tip without comment before shuffling back into the station.

A travel pillow magically appeared between her neck and the seat, and Steph gratefully sank back into the softness, smiling at Hector sitting to her right. Since Ranger couldn't sit up for any length of time, they'd reconfigured the cargo area so the two smallest members of the group occupied the second row while Manny currently slept in the shotgun position.

Automatically she checked on Ranger and found him to all outward appearances to also be sleeping. True to his word, his hand still clasped hers; the only times he reluctantly let go was when they stopped and she got out to stretch her legs. Bobby insisted on Ranger getting out, too, but that was for more torture with the walker. Each time, they both returned to the SUV drenched in sweat, and just the reminder of that caused the itch between her shoulder blades to start up again.

If she was uncomfortable because her last shower was days ago, Ranger must be miserable by now. But he hadn't complained, not even when Bobby appeared each time they stopped with the hated walker and gait belt. Her respect for him grew as he silently accepted her help in sitting up and getting to the bumper of the SUV, and her love deepened as he struggled one-armed with shaking legs that refused to obey him.

As if he could sense the directions her thoughts were trending, Ranger's fingers twitched and a muscle jumped in his left leg. The movement jarred his entire body and he opened his eyes, his gaze tracking unerringly to her.

"Hey," Steph said softly.

Ranger started to answer, but then a spasm of pain shuddered through his body and he closed his eyes against it. The deep lines were back and his skin was pale, but Ranger didn't give in to it. With a superhuman effort, he rode out the first wave and then mastered the rest, shoving it away. When he met her eyes again, his gaze wasn't as clear, and the fatigue from continual fighting the pain rested heavily on his face.

"Ranger, why don't I ask Bobby if you can have more pain killers?" Steph asked in a low voice.

He shook his head slightly. "No. I…need to have a clear head."

"You're not going to have a clear head if you can't sleep." She didn't have room to pop a hip or roll her head, but the narrowed-eye glare should have been enough of a warning. Ranger was not a stupid man. "We're in the middle of nowhere and it's just the guys and me. You can afford to relax for a few hours."

In the front seat, Manny woke up from his nap. He straightened, glancing over his shoulder to assess any changes since he fell asleep. When he saw Steph squared off against Ranger, he flashed her a quick grin and quickly faced forward again.

"Ranger—"

He grimaced, but whether it was from her tone of voice or the pain, Steph couldn't be sure. "Babe, if something happened out here, you wouldn't be able to get me out in time. I'd be out cold and never know what hit me until it was too late."

That thought was one Steph had avoided. Looking out the dark tinted windows of the SUV, she could see the impossibly massive mountains rising above the thick-clustered pine trees into sky as sharply clear as the jagged edge of glass. The night sky was even more magnificent, with stars glittering brighter and closer than she'd ever seen in New Jersey.

"It's a choice, Ranger," she said finally, dropping her eyes to meet his. "And I trust your experience and your skills to know how much you can handle and when you need help, especially since we aren't anywhere that you or your highly trained men consider _safe enough_. But, I also trust that when we are at the safe house, you will let Bobby and the rest of the guys take care of things so you can rest and heal."

Ranger didn't immediately agree, which didn't surprise Steph in the least. He stared at the ceiling, his expression not as blank as usual and only the smallest motion of his eyes as he sorted through options and possibilities.

Quicker than she would have been able to manage it, Ranger blinked once slowly, then slid his gaze to her face. "You're staring."

"Sorry," Steph said, trying to sound like she meant it.

One eyebrow went up. "And smiling."

"That I can't help. I love watching your mind work."

A lesser man would have made manly noises to cover his embarrassment at being caught. Ranger's eyes darkened and his lips parted slightly, just enough that Steph moistened hers and tried to convince herself that she really didn't want to lean over him and kiss those delectable lips until neither one of them could remember their respective names.

The tires crunched on gravel and the SUV jounced as it hit the first pothole on a minimum maintenance road. Steph put a hand out to brace herself, reminding herself just in time to not jerk on Ranger's hand. Ram slowed down drastically as the trees closed in, blocking out all but the occasional glimpse of the mountains looming above them. A flash of white in the dark shadows underneath the heavy, thick branches caught Steph's attention and she looked closer, her eyes widening as she realized that it was snow, piled there like yesterday's forgotten toys. Or last winter's.

"How far up are we?"

"High enough that you probably don't want to do a lot of sprinting around," said Manny. "We're not so high that you have to worry about altitude sickness."

That made her gulp a little, and Ranger squeezed her hand again in reassurance. While she'd hoped he would take something to take the edge off the pain, a part of her was glad he was still coherent enough to keep her panic at bay.

 _Wonder what he would say if I told him he was my security blanket?_

"Babe."

Steph shook her head. "I really need to start watching that, don't I?"

"I hope not," he said, then stopped as another hard jounce threw them around the inside of the SUV. By the time the vehicle leveled out, the pallor was back under his skin and he'd let go of her hand to grab the edge of the cargo area. Short of throwing herself across his body to anchor him to the floor, Steph had nothing she could do except to hang on and watch him with a worried look on her face and the internal vow that she would do whatever it took to get him some rest when they stopped for the night.

As if on cue, Ram braked hard. The wheels slid sideways a little, just enough to give Steph a brief second of that curious, terrifying weightlessness that she had come to hate, and then they stopped. Headlights swung through the cab as the others parked next to him. Steph glanced through the windshield and saw the front of what looked like a rickety log cabin left over from the last century but two.

"Please tell me that isn't what it looks like," she said to no one in particular.

"It isn't what it looks like," said Manny dutifully. When she shot him a glare he held up his hands in surrender. "You asked. And no, this isn't the safe house. We're just stopping here for a little shut eye. The border's only a couple hours away and we need to be rested before we cross."

"Good to know," said Steph, still staring doubtfully at the cabin. If _cabin_ was even the correct word for it; personally, she was willing to go with shack and not worry about insulting anyone at all. The front door sagged on rusted hinges, and the tin roof on the front porch tipped a little to one side like it was about to slide off. Large white lines filled in between the logs that formed the front wall, and a single window was a dark eye with no light to show the inside.

The Merry Men exited the other SUVs, setting off into the darkness to do God-knew-what. Manny and Hector left their vehicle, shutting the doors quietly and then disappearing for a few minutes before coming back into the line of the headlights as they approached the sagging board door.

The light gleamed off the barrel of Manny's gun as he stepped under the front porch roof. Carefully positioning himself to one side of the opening, he waited until Hector was in place before carefully pushing the door open.

"What's going on?" Ranger asked.

Steph glanced down and realized that he was keeping himself still with a self-control that she knew she'd never have. The hard light was back in his eyes, and the hand clamped on the edge of the seat was well on the way to ripping the covering through.

"Manny and Hector are clearing the cabin," Steph said, glancing back to make sure that was still true. A light flickered on in the building and she saw Hector jogging up rickety stairs. "Looks good so far."

"Good."

Ranger didn't relax. If anything, he tensed even further, until the tendons were standing out in his hand and arms. At a different time, Steph might have scooted away from him, giving him enough distance that she was out of range of any possible explosions. With Joe, she probably would have left the vehicle entirely, opting for the safety of the darkness in the middle of nowhere to close proximity to an angry Italian male.

 _But this is Ranger, and he said he loved me._

Biting her lip, Steph carefully placed her hand over his. There was no way she could ever hope to pry his fingers loose. If Ranger didn't want to move, the only one who had a chance of physically doing it was Tank, and Steph didn't think there was a Canadian version close enough to do any good. But she hadn't forgotten the words Ranger whispered once in her ear, when he'd pinned her against the wall of his apartment to emphasize that she couldn't change his mind about letting her out of the building.

 _I'm beginning to think I have the strength, but you have all of the power._

"Babe," he said, his voice as tight and controlled as his body. "What are you doing?"

A smile crept out before she could stop it. "Do you ever get the feeling that you should just print that question up on a card so you have it handy?"

His expression was a mix of bafflement and exasperation that struck her as funny, and Steph let herself laugh. "I think that's the one question you've asked me more than any other since this whole thing started."

He let go of the seat, grimacing a little when the cushion didn't want to let go of his stiff fingers, and curled his hand around hers. To her delight, his body relaxed and the light behind his eyes was no longer harsh and edged with steel.

"This is going to take some getting used to," he said, letting out his breath in an explosive exhale.

"Me?"

Ranger shook his head. "No, me. Letting you in. Not keeping myself closed off when we're in the middle of an op."

"I'd prefer you do whatever you have to in order to keep us all alive," said Steph, tempering the bite in her words with a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth. Ranger tried to capture her lips as she retreated, but then he winced and fell back on the pillows. "See, that's what I mean. Focus on being Ranger, at least until we're at the safe house. Then we can see how I fit into the team, and what I need to do to be a better fit."

"Does that mean you want in, Babe?"

Steph caught the wistfulness in his tone, and she chose her next words carefully. "It means I want to be a part of this team while we are trying to figure out what's going on. I want to be an asset, not a liability, for as long as we are away from Trenton."

He nodded at that, not quite able to hide the disappointment in his gaze when she stopped. So Steph shifted to the side so she could get very close to him, and caught his eyes with hers as she leaned in so her lips were almost touching his ear.

"And it means, you wondrous, generous, loving man, that when we get back to Trenton, I want to be a part of your life. And I want you to be a part of mine. Together, for as long as we have."

With the pillows and blankets piled around him, Ranger couldn't grab her and kiss her within an inch of her life. By the light flaring in his dark gaze, Steph had no doubt whatsoever that he wanted to do exactly that.

"Rain check?" she asked, and he leaned his head against hers, a gentle bump that reminded her of the head butts a purring cat would give. "I'll take that as a yes?"

"I started a list," he said, placing a kiss on her temple. "It's going to be fun working our way through it."

Heat flared in Steph's body, revving her engine from zero to eighty with breath-stealing speed. She contented herself with touching the tip of her tongue to his outer ear, giving it a delicate lick that made him shudder.

"I'm going to look forward to it, too. I have a few of your past misdeeds that I'd like to get payback for."

A lesser man would have complained that she was keeping track, forgetting that he had just admitted to the same. Morelli would have made things worse by making several lewd suggestions about how she could make it up to him that would have accomplished nothing other than to dissuade her from ever bringing the subject up again. But Ranger—

Steph pulled back, just enough to see his face and more importantly his eyes. For all his ability to shut off his emotions or pretend that he'd get around to feeling sometime in the next month, Ranger could also be brutally honest in the dance between them.

This was one of those times.

Naked lust was something she expected to see. Ranger wasn't shy about acknowledging the physical component of their attraction. There were times he reveled in it, and those were the occasions branded into Steph's body and memory with the heat of the sun.

Other times, he would hold her tight, like he had after fishing her out of the Delaware during the Uncle Sonny debacle, and Steph felt his deep-seated fear in the convulsive strength of his arms, that one day he would be too late to save her, and everything that might have been between them would melt away with the fading beat of her heart.

Then there was the day she'd sat her ass on his desk after Scrog and he fed her an iced rose from the birthday cake she brought, and he'd been in enough pain that his guard had gone down. She saw love in his dark eyes, not the fiery, passionate inferno that could consume souls, but the solid, quiet foundation that melded two hearts together.

And God help her, she wanted that. More than the safety of Morelli's idea of a white picket fence future, more than the comfortable but vague solitary existence that left her empty and stillncraving what Ranger showed her in that one unguarded moment.

"You're smiling again," he said, drawing her thoughts back to the SUV currently parked in the middle of a Canadian wilderness. "Should I be worried?"

"No," said Steph, giving in once more to impulse and planting a kiss on his cheek. "Just trying to sort out some things."

Movement outside caught her attention, and she glimpsed Woody and Ram unloading baggage from the SUV closest to the cabin. Hector followed hard on their heels, his arms full of cases that could only be his beloved electronics.

"Um, how long are we staying here?" Steph asked.

Ranger didn't bother to look. "Long enough to sleep through the day and get more intel from Tank. I want to know more about who we're up against before we cross back into the U.S."

"And where would that be?" Steph tried to keep her voice casual as she asked the question, but even at half strength Ranger caught her before she could school her expression to blandness.

"Nice try, Babe." He raised her hand clasped in his to his lips for a slow, methodical kiss. "You'll find out soon enough."

" _Ran_ -ger," she said, putting a tiny bit of whine into his name.

All he did was laugh, the bastard. Then he nipped at her knuckles, letting her feel just the edge of his teeth, and Steph's irritation faded. Her lips firmed into a straight line as she considered how much trouble she would be in if Bobby caught her retaliating, then the driver's side door opened and Steph was glad she hadn't acted on her first impulse.

"We're ready for both of you," said Bobby. He tilted his head to the side. "Yeah, Steph, you're up first."

" _Me_? I wasn't doing anything!"

The RangeMan medic shook his head. "I know you try very hard not to, but this guy also knows your weaknesses. So I'm removing the temptation until he can behave himself."

Ranger at least had the grace to look contrite as he kissed her fingers and let her go. Steph probably would have forgiven him for getting her into trouble except she also caught the smirk he couldn't quite hide as she unsnapped her seat belt.

Steph hesitated, her mind swinging between the impulse to get even and the knowledge that Bobby would probably march her into the cabin and put her in time out if she did. Her eyes narrowed and she took a deep breath as her chin went up.

Steeling herself, Steph turned her head slightly so she was looking straight at Ranger. He grinned at her expression, but that faded as she put up both eyebrows. It was hard to keep her own smirk hidden, and maybe because he could read that struggle in her face, he morphed immediately to the wary predator unsure of whether or not she was going to pounce.

 _Be like the water, flowing through the air._

Slowly, she rested her hand on his, bending down until she was mere inches from his mouth. "Don't think for an instant that this isn't going on the list."

Her hand slid down, trailing across his hipbone and landing somewhere south of there, far enough from ground zero that she could argue it was completely innocent. Steph kept her eyes locked with Ranger's until she saw the change as he felt the full effect of her touch. Then she removed the hand as she straightened.

And let her own smirk dart out for the smallest fraction of a moment before changing it to a bright, cheery smile for Bobby's benefit. "Okay! I'm ready to see where we'll be sleeping tonight."

Her scramble out of the back seat might have been too fast to be dignified, but Steph argued with herself that she had every right to savor her victory, however small it might be. It wasn't often she got one over on Ranger, and with his injuries it would be at least a few days before she had to start worrying about payback.

The fact that it would probably be epic was beside the point.

Her shoes sank into the soil as Steph slid out of the SUV, and the sharp scent of wet and pine needles filled her nose. The air was damp and heavy, like it was still thinking about letting loose with another round of rain. Or snow. They were definitely high enough for snow, even though it was still mostly fall in Trenton.

Bobby met her at the front of the vehicle, sliding his arm around her and guiding her in the darkness towards the cabin. "You know he's going to get even, right?"

"I'm rather counting on it," Steph said, trying to sound brave.

He laughed and gave her a squeeze. "I think we're going to work well together."

"What do you mean?"

Bobby shrugged. "You know Ranger will need to rehab. Usually with injuries this bad, he'd disappear to a safe house, hire a private nurse and have at-home physical therapy until he was back to a hundred percent. All I'd have is e-mailed progress reports and the occasional phone consult until he was ready to come home."

"Is that why he would be gone so long sometimes?" Steph asked, her stomach twisting a little at the thought that Ranger had been injured and she hadn't even noticed when he came back. "Because he was injured?"

"Don't blame yourself, Bomber. He made sure very few people knew." Bobby guided her onto the porch and pushed the door open. "Ranger is a very private person for a reason, and I can't share more than what I have without his okay. But I want you to take a good, hard look at what you're offering before you plunge headfirst into this whole rehab thing."

That gave her something to chew on, and she nearly missed her first steps into the cabin/shack. The inside wasn't much bigger than the outside, but it was much warmer with the fire Woody was coaxing to life in the cast iron stove sitting next to the sink, cupboards and refrigerator tucked under the stairs and loft she'd seen Hector check out through the window. Three double bunk beds lined the walls to the left, and a large table with chipped and peeling wooden chairs clustered around it stood to her direct right.

That was it, except for another door in the opposite wall. The floor was wide planked wood and the rafters bare, the battery lantern light flickering in the shadows gathered near the underside of the actual roof.

"Well, this is cosy," Steph said slowly, trying to find something flattering to say about the accommodations. While she hadn't really expected a shack in the middle of nowhere, she also hadn't thought that the Merry Men would be able to find one, either. "Tell me it has running water."

"Hand pump," said Woody as he closed the stove door on a roaring fire and straightened. "But we did upgrade a few years ago to a composting toilet, so you don't have to make a run in the middle of the night down the path to the outhouse."

Steph swallowed hard, then squared her shoulders. The bushes here didn't have the same civilized allure as the ones in New Jersey, but at least she wouldn't have to worry about scaring up perverts out of them like she did in some neighborhoods while on surveillance.

A cry, deep-throated and loud, echoed through the trees outside, raising the hair on the back of her neck. "What was that?"

The question came out even and calm, and Steph was proud that she managed not to squeak it out like a cornered mouse.

Hector came in and dumped another armload of boxes on the table. " _Lobo hambriento_."

"Meaning—" Steph trailed off delicately.

Bobby coughed into his hand, trying unsuccessfully to hide his grin. "Hungry wolf."

"Wolf," she repeated, blinking a couple of times as her mind tried to process that little tidbit of information.

" _Hungry_ wolf," Woody said helpfully. "But don't worry. He'll have to get through Ram and Junior on perimeter and the rest of us down here before he can get to you."

That took a little bit longer to process, and since her conclusion was that any animal stupid enough to take on a Merry Men would eventually either die without eating or be so full her grandmother could outrun it, Steph chose not to make an issue of it. At least, not until the unseen wolf decided to move closer.

It howled again, louder and definitely closer.

Then another howl answered it, this one on the other side of the cabin. The timbre was deep and rough, and this time the skin on Steph's forearms prickled, too, as she edged closer to Bobby.

Woody glanced in that direction, as if he could see through the beds and the wall. "Oops. Guess he brought company with him."

"Bobby, we need to get Ranger in here," Steph said, shifting from foot to foot. "I don't like this."

"Relax, Bomber. Hal's bringing the SUV in closer so he doesn't have as far to walk." Bobby guided her to the table. "Sit and we'll get him inside. If I know him, he'll want a rifle with a night scope and insist on staying up all night to keep watch."

"Not after I'm done with him," she said grimly. Steph dragged the chair around so she could see the door and waited on pins and needles as Bobby went out with Hector into the darkness. Woody shook out a blanket from one of the beds and tacked it over the window, covering every inch of glass that might show the lantern light to the outside. She heard the engine of the SUV start up, then strain a little as it inched closer. She sat with her hands clenched tight in her lap as doors opened and closed, and low male voices talked on the porch as the rattle-thump of the walker made its torturous way over the wood.

The door creaked open and it took all of Steph's willpower to stay seated as Ranger crossed the threshold. Bobby stood to his left, supporting him with the gait belt while Hal covered him from in back, ready to catch him if he stumbled. The flat line of Ranger's lips and the hard glint in his eyes kept her still, her body rigid as he took slow step after slow step.

True to his stubborn nature, he didn't fall into the chair Hector pulled out for him, either. Ranger turned with an unnatural precision and lowered himself to the seat, even as his legs and arms shook dangerously. The tension across his upper back and the lines etched into his face made Steph ache in sympathy, but there was no sign that he was going to give into either weakness or pain as he sat with impeccable posture, his back not even touching the support of the chair.

Every once in a great while, Steph's spidey sense kicked in early enough so she avoided making serious mistakes. Even though every impulse she had screamed at her to get up and fuss over Ranger, getting him pillows to brace his back or urging him to rest on one of the bunk beds, Steph stayed still, her gaze locked on him and her hands still clenched out of sight in her lap.

It seemed like forever as she sat there, waiting for his gaze to pull back from whatever he stared at, his breathing painfully shallow and forced. It seemed forever until he blinked slowly and took a deeper breath as his gaze shifted towards her.

A frown creased his forehead. "Babe?"

He sounded so normal, so much like the Ranger she knew and loved, that Steph got up and crossed the short space between them. Bobby wisely gave her room, and the other Merry Men busied themselves carrying the rest of the gear they would need into the cabin. Manny had appointed himself chef for the night and was busy rummaging through the cupboards to assess the extent of their resources and what he would need for cooking it.

Steph tilted her head to the side and rested her hands on the front bar of the walker, her fingers relaxed and slightly curled as they draped over the metal. "Hey, Batman. How you doing?"

His dark eyes were unreadable as his gaze swept over her from the top of her head to the bottom of her aching feet. His expression was mildly speculative as he met her eyes again.

"Was that a trick question?" he asked. "Or are you just wondering how much I've got left after walking a distance that would make a toddler blush with embarrassment?"

The edge in his voice answered a lot of her questions. Some of what she saw in his gaze—the hard and unyielding light, the blank wall hiding the deeper emotions—rose from anger at himself for not being at full strength. Some was despair as Ranger recognized too well the long road he had in front of him.

And perhaps there was a little fear that Steph would see him for the man he truly was and despise him for his weakness.

Steph leaned in a little, lowering her voice. "Yes, I'm worried about how much you have left after enduring a plane ride, and a bumpy drive over some rough terrain. I know you've slept a little, but you've also been fighting off pain while you go through those exercises with Bobby."

The harsh light in his gaze grew a little stronger, and Steph wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around him and let him know in no uncertain terms that she could never despise him for what he was not. All she had in her loved him for who he was, and Ranger wasn't going to change that so easily, either about himself or about her response to him.

A glance around the cabin showed too many Merry Men within earshot, so a straightforward aim-for-the-balls statement of that truth wasn't going to work. She _really_ didn't want to have to look these guys in the face for the rest of the trip, especially if Ranger shot her down because it was in front of his men.

She blew a breath out, screwing up her courage for one more try at convincing the man in front of her that he wasn't any less of a man for needing her help for the moment. Or a few more moments in the immediate future.

Then he shifted and hissed in pain, and all of her caution went out the window without even waiting to wave good-bye.

"Listen, Ricardo Carlos Manoso," she said, pointing a finger directly at him. "Did you happen to hear those wolves out there? The hungry wolves who think they want a Merry Man for supper with room left over for a Jersey Girl as dessert?"

He stared at her for a very long time, then tilted his head to the side in the faintest head shake _no_. Steph nodded, working up a little bit of steam to go with her nervousness.

"Well, I'd rather do the chicken dance through those trees outside with a side of bacon strapped to my ass in the middle of those wolves than let you think for _one minute more_ that I would be so shallow as to trade you in just because you can't bench press three hundred pounds right this instant." Steph stopped, suddenly aware that she was leaning far enough over the walker to technically and literally be in Ranger's face.

And the entire cabin was deathly quiet except for the sizzle of the aforementioned bacon in the skillet on the stove.

Steph held her breath, watching as Ranger's eyes darkened and the lips she once thought of kissing until he was senseless parted slightly. She cringed inwardly, wondering if she was about to experience the wrath of a truly outraged Cuban male.

He curled his right hand around the back of her neck and brought her close enough that she felt his breath on her cheek. Ever so gently, Ranger touched his forehead to hers in an intimate gesture that made her heart skip a beat. Then he smiled.

"Only you, Babe."


	18. Chapter 18

This is an author's note I never thought I would have to write, but I owe you the readers an explanation before I disappear again for an unknown amount of time. I lost my job today through no fault of my own, and I am going to need time to process, regroup and search for a new job that will keep body and soul (and home) together. If you are so inclined, please remember me in your thoughts and prayers. This is a devastating and unexpected blow, and I can only hope that I can find something that will work with my caretaking responsibilities at home and my financial needs moving forward.

Many thanks for all of your reviews, comments and messages. It has been a comfort to me to see so many people enjoy my little stories. Many blessings to you, and may I post better things in the not-to-distant future.


	19. Chapter 19

_All recognizable characters belong to Janet Evanovich and are used here without intent to profit. Thank you to everyone who has PMed and reviewed since my last chapter. Your support and prayers and well wishes have made a difficult time much easier to bear. The good news is that a very kind mentor told me to take this opportunity to use skills I have kept apart from the day job and make the leap. So I am. I have just a couple months left to get things in full swing, and then it will be a waiting game. While I'm waiting for the results, here's a fresh start for Every Moment. I hope you enjoy._

* * *

The tension went out of the cabin at Ranger's response, and people started to move again. She heard Manny scraping a spatula on the cast iron frying pan as he flipped the bacon before it burned, and Woody muttering something under his breath as he dug through a box in the corner. There may have been a chuckle or two, no doubt at the mental picture Steph painted about her and the wolves, but she could only hope no one would repeat it to Lester. He would never let her live it down.

"Yeah, only me. And don't you forget it. Now, what would you like to do next?" She dropped her eyes, settling on his mouth. "I know what _I_ want to do next, but you need food and probably a change of clothes before we get to that."

His face lightened. "Giving me a choice?"

"Yep. You'd do the same for me." Steph grinned, despite her aching back and tired legs. "I don't think Bobby will let me try carrying you anywhere, but otherwise I'll be right here, waiting on you hand and foot."

"Pretty sure Lester would have a smart-ass remark after that," Ranger said drily, and Steph laughed.

"I know he would. And if he mentions the chicken dance and bacon, I'll throw him to the wolves myself. Grandma Mazur and her friends are way worse than the four-legged kind."

Ranger gave her a little bit more of a smile and mentally Steph pumped a fist that she'd scored that much of a victory. His gaze swept around the only room of the cabin, resting on the door beside the wood stove.

He let out a breath. "Guess first thing is first. Wait for me here?"

"Wouldn't dream of going anywhere," Steph said, backing up a little.

As if on cue, Bobby stepped away from where he had been ostensibly checking over his medical kit and was at Ranger's side. "Needing a relief break?"

Ranger made a face, not as obvious as Steph would have, but a grimace nonetheless. "Yeah. And a change of clothes after that."

"Got it." Bobby slid a supporting hand under Ranger's good elbow as he leveraged himself up, signaling Hector behind his back.

Steph returned to her chair, getting out of the way as the Merry Men swung into action like the highly-trained team they were. Hector walked in front of Ranger, watching the walker for signs that he was losing balance or strength. Behind him, Bobby and Woody stood to either side, steadying their friend and boss when he needed and waiting patiently as he struggled to make it across the short distance.

"Thank you," said a quiet voice behind her, and Steph craned her neck back to see Hal standing by the front door. His fair skin was slightly pink, as if it cost him to speak up, but the square set of his jaw told Steph he wasn't going to back down either.

When Hal was on a mission, the only thing capable of stopping him was a sweet-talking Jersey girl with her eye on his stun gun.

"For what?" Steph asked, her brow furrowing in confusion. "I haven't done anything except sit here and look pretty."

The big man she had affectionately nicknamed 'Halosaurus' because of his linebacker build shook his head. "You've done plenty. No complaints about accommodations or traveling, no tantrums about being ignored. You've been cheerful and upbeat and that helps us focus on the job of keeping you and Ranger safe."

"Oh." Steph blinked a little, trying to figure out why Hal thought it so important. A part of her understood where he was coming from, but the rest was puzzled as to why others wouldn't see that it was just common sense. "You're welcome, but it's something that anyone else would do, given the same chance. I'm nothing special."

 _Nothing special._

Morelli's words pinged around her brain, echoing and driving home exactly how out of her league she was in the present company. Steph glanced around the cabin, noting that each Merry Man seemed to know exactly what needed to be done and was simply picking up the work and getting it done. And here she was, sitting on her ass, her hands empty and her brain completely blank at what to do next.

The heavy weight of Hal's hand descended onto her shoulder. "Don't go there, Steph. Morelli is an idiot if he can't see what you bring to this team. He's used you often enough to help his cases—he should appreciate your skills and instincts more. We do."

"Thanks, Hal." Steph covered his hand with hers, unable to say more around the lump in her throat. "I don't deserve you guys."

He squeezed her shoulder, and let go as Ranger came out of the back room. Steph's attention went to him immediately, and she swallowed hard as she noticed the way his arms were shaking. But nobody dared say anything and he made it back to the table, collapsing into the chair she jumped up and positioned for him.

Hector and Woody exchanged glances with Bobby, who jerked his head away. Both men nodded and went back to their other tasks, leaving Steph and Bobby closest to Ranger, who had his eyes closed as his chest heaved with the exertion of walking across the floor.

"So what's next?" Steph asked. She crouched next to Ranger's chair, her hand resting on his good knee. He opened his eyes at her touch and her heart twisted at the pain and exhaustion clouding his usually clear gaze. "You can't keep fighting off the pain and trying to move around, Ranger. Sooner or later you'll have to let Bobby give you something to at least take the edge off."

"No," he said between gritted teeth. "Not yet."

"But—" Steph sent Bobby a despairing glance, silently asking him if there was anything he could do to persuade his boss and friend to accept the painkiller. "Ranger, you can't keep this up."

A spasm of pain passed over his face and he tipped his head back again, fighting it. Steph didn't dare move, but she also knew she wasn't going to keep begging him. While she also didn't have a death wish about forcing Ranger to do something he didn't want to do, she also wasn't going to keep allowing him to push so hard.

"Bobby," she said in a low voice, "is there some place he can at least lay down and take some of the pressure off?"

The RangeMan medic nodded. "Yeah. We were planning on giving you and Ranger the loft. I'll have Hal carry him up and get him settled, if you don't mind doing some running up and down the stairs for the food when it's ready."

"You know I'd do more than that for him," she said.

That earned her a quick smile. Before Ranger could countermand him, he signaled Hal, who said something to Hector before handing the former gang member a case and coming over.

Steph missed the conversation between the two men. Her attention was completely on Ranger, trying to ease him through the wave of pain. She could see that it was rapidly draining what strength he had left, and she inched closer to him, rubbing her hand up and down his good arm in a vain attempt to relax him.

A touch on her shoulder broke her focus and Steph looked around to find both Bobby and Hal looking at her.

"Ready?" she asked.

Bobby helped her stand. "Yeah. I want you to go up the stairs first and pull the covers back on the bed so Hal can just lay him down. I'll bring up more pillows and roll up some blankets to support him. I nabbed some boots to keep the blood circulating through his legs while he's immobile. I didn't want to use them if we don't have to, but with the distance we have left, he'll have to wear them during the day if he's not able to move around more."

"Blood clots?" Steph asked as she hobbled a few steps until her legs steadied under her. "Like if you're in a plane too long?"

"Exactly that. This increase in pain is going to set him back enough the way it is. Clots send us into more dangerous territory." Bobby broke off as Hal slung Ranger's arm around his neck and then bent forward, gently lifting in a display of strength until he was straight and Ranger lay across his shoulders.

Steph waited until she saw Ranger's eyes flutter open before she scampered ahead of them, racing up the stairs with one hand on the wall for balance until she reached the loft. The space was small enough, and made even worse by the slant of the roof. But there was enough room for a double bed and a side table, and hopefully enough head space that Ranger wouldn't be adding another concussion to the list of his injuries when Hal brought him up. She heard the heavy step on the loft stairs and crossed the small space to pull the covers to the foot of the bed and plump the pillows so everything looked inviting.

Hal came up the steps with a slowness designed to minimize jostling. Bending forward, he lowered Ranger onto the mattress like a man setting down a fine crystal vase. Ranger kept his eyes closed, his mouth in a tight line and his entire body rigid.

Steph wasn't the maternal type, and she didn't think she'd ever be able to handle a screaming, fussy baby, but she had also graduated college and grown up in New Jersey. She turned towards Bobby, her eyes wide and frantic. Grabbing the basin he held out to her, she positioned it next to Ranger just in time.

He rolled onto his good side, retching helplessly into the basin she wedged between them. Bobby moved behind Ranger, using the blankets Hall hastily rolled up to support his back and legs while he heaved. Steph's stomach rolled once, but she clamped down on it and forced it to behave. This wasn't the first time she'd played acolyte to the porcelain gods and it certainly wasn't going to be the last.

 _Ranger needs me to be here, dammit._

Her free hand went to his forehead, brushing his hair back as she murmured words she didn't even remember. All that mattered was his straining body as Ranger fought against his rebellious stomach and the pain.

Bobby watched for a few minutes, his dark eyes assessing, and when it seemed the wave of nausea had passed, he went downstairs. She heard a scramble of feet that ended as quickly as it began and then he came back, carrying his large medical kit while Woody trailed behind with another one.

"Okay, Steph. I'm going to have you stay where you are," he said as he set the kit on the side table and cracked it open. "Keep the basin there in case he feels sick again, and keep talking to him. I'm going to start an IV for fluids and give him something for the nausea. The last thing we need is dehydration or tearing the stitches loose."

"And the pain?"

He grimaced. "Yeah, even though he doesn't want it. A mild painkiller will at least take the edge off and let him sleep. It's going to be tough finding something that works for him enough and yet he burns through fast enough not to be groggy."

Ranger sighed and rolled away from the basin, his eyes fluttering closed. Steph set it to the side where she wouldn't trip over it and helped him get settled on the pillows. His forehead glistened with sweat and the sharp odor of it made her nostrils flare.

"Bobby," said Steph, hesitating over what she was about to ask. It required a degree of intimacy that she wasn't sure Ranger would be comfortable with, but she also knew that she was the best person to do it.

 _It's not like I stand a chance walking the perimeter in the dark with the wolves._

"Yeah, Bomber?" He didn't look up from Ranger's arm, expertly threading the needle into the vein and attaching the IV port. "Something wrong?"

"N-no, not really." She placed her palm against Ranger's forehead and felt the heat beneath her skin. She could do this. "Would it be out of line if I helped him clean up a little?"

If her tone hadn't alerted Bobby, the question certainly did. He studied her for a long moment, his dark eyes still assessing with that intensity that reminded her of Ranger, then nodded.

"I think Ranger would like that," he said gently. "Let me get the IV set up and running so we can take care of the nausea, then we can both help."

Steph gave him a faint smile. "Thanks. I don't want to overstep bounds here, but I want to help."

"I can't think of anything about your helping that Ranger would mind. He's just not used to people offering without wanting something else in return."

There wasn't a good answer to that, because Steph knew damn well that outsiders might think she used Ranger just for cars and protection without giving him anything in return. He said _no price_ so often that she should probably get him a little card for that, too, but she knew the balance was heavier on his side than on hers. So setting apart the fact that she wanted to do this for him, maybe it would even things out between them a little better.

Bobby ripped open the plastic cover on the saline bag and beckoned to her. "Come on over here and hold this while I get it set up. I'll see if Hector has a nail I can hang it from for the night so you don't have to play statue."

Obediently, Steph took the bag and held it above her head. Bobby attached the line to the port and watched it for a minute before adjusting the flow. Then he went back to the medical kit and swiftly drew a syringe of a medication, making sure there were no air bubbles before injecting it into the line.

"That'll make him sleepy for a while, but it's pretty powerful." He picked up the trash and the basin. "I'll run down and take care of this, and bring up some warm water. I'll walk you through the process so you know how to do the next one on your own."

Her knees shook at the thought but Steph kept her expression blank so Bobby wouldn't see how much this idea—now she had time to think about it—scared her. But she dredged up a weak smile and kept her back straight and the arm holding the IV bag rock steady.

Ranger breathed easily on the bed, his chest rising and falling steadily as he slept under the influence of the drugs. The smell of the bacon rose from the kitchen just underneath the loft, and she peered over the waist high post and rail wood railing. From this angle she could feel the heat from the wood stove and smell the delicious odors of whatever Manny was whipping up directly below her feet.

Ranger sighed in his sleep, turning his head towards her. The worst of the tightness smoothed out of his face, leaving just a little bit around his mouth, no doubt from the strain of managing the pain of his injuries piled on top of the nausea and exhaustion. His right forearm rested across his stomach, in the same position it had been strapped into for so long. The tendons stood out on the back of his hand, and she could plainly see the loss of tone from the sling immobilizing him for so long.

Shadows moved on the wall and ceiling, and the creak of the steps bending under weight heralded Bobby's return with a different basin of steaming water and a couple of washrags slung over his arm. To Steph's surprise, Hector followed him carrying a tall stack of towels and blankets with a familiar duffle bag balanced on top.

The Merry Men didn't waste time with idle chit chat. Bobby placed the basin on the floor and came over to set up an improvised IV stand by the simple expedient of hammering a nail into the ceiling with the end of a medical clamp. He hooked the bag over it and checked the line to make sure nothing had kinked, gently pushing Steph towards the far corner so they could work without tripping over her.

Without anything to do, she leaned her shoulder against the pitch of the roof and waited for the next instructions. She glanced down and saw Manny finessing the wood stove, cursing every once in a while as he managed three fry pans and a griddle to make sure nothing burned. The rest of the team, except for Ram and Junior, were busy unpacking the boxes brought in from the SUVs and setting up gear on the kitchen table or airing out the blankets on the individual beds in the sleeping area.

Everyone was busy, except for her.

"All right, I think we're ready here." Bobby drew her attention back to the bed, and back to the matter at hand.

Steph moistened her lips with her tongue, wishing she had something to drink for her suddenly dry mouth. The offer to play nursemaid had been an impulsive one, at least for this particular portion of it, and now that she had to put up or shut up, Steph worried that she would fail the test.

Being a caregiver wasn't about fulfilling her needs. It was about focusing completely on Ranger and what he needed.

"—come over here and I'll get you started," Bobby was saying as her thoughts snapped back to the _here_ and _now_. "Hector has done this before. His sister taught him how when she was going through nursing school and he's worked a few jobs as a PCA before he came to work for us."

Her eyes flew to the former gang member, widening a fraction as she tried to envision him in a role like that. Steph knew Hector was a caring, deeply compassionate man beneath his tough exterior and tattoos. Then again, she'd also seen the scary side of him while watching the video feeds at the safe house.

Hector grinned at her and shook his head, never stopping what he was doing. And as Steph focused on what he was doing, a shiver of something scarily vulnerable flashed through her.

Bobby and Hector, working together, lifted Ranger enough to place a large bath sheet underneath him. Hector efficiently stripped Ranger's clothes off, covering him with the thick towels quickly so his exposed skin wouldn't be chilled by exposure to the air.

Steph gulped and forced herself to slide her hand into Bobby's.

 _I can do this without embarrassing anyone. I can do this._

"First things first," said Bobby. "Ranger prefers to be awake for these. He has reactions that are instinctive, and he could hurt you badly just because of his training and size before he stopped himself. If he is delirious or unconscious, and you're alone without one of us to help, your first choice is to skip it. The second is restraints, but those raise a whole other list of precautions and warnings."

"Skip it. Got it." Steph bit her lip, stamping what Bobby was saying into her brain so she wouldn't forget. _Not my fault_ wasn't going to cut it for something as important as Ranger's health.

When Bobby didn't immediately continue, she cut her eyes towards him and found him grinning at her. "What? What's so funny?"

He shook his head. "Not funny, sweetie. I'm just tickled that you're stepping up. You deserve everything that Ranger can give you, and he deserves to have someone like you to stand beside him. Don't think you're alone in this. We'll work together to get Ranger back on his feet, and I have a feeling he will make sure you know how much he appreciates what you're doing for him when he's feeling better."

It was by far the longest speech by Bobby in a long time, and it gave Steph the courage to square her shoulders and step up to the side of the bed. The RangeMan medic flashed her a smile and touched Ranger's shoulder, calling his name until his eyelids fluttered and slowly slid open.

Steph watched with fascination as he transitioned quickly from sleepy to alert, focusing on the ceiling overhead then to each of the people around him. His last glance was for the IV bag dripping slowly into the tubing, and he grimaced.

"Fuck."

"Pretty much," said Bobby as he straightened. "How's your stomach?"

Ranger's gaze flicked toward Steph and he swallowed, his throat rippling with the movement. "Better. Did I—"

"Don't worry about it," said Steph as she slid her hand into his right one. She was careful not to pick it up or jar his shoulder. The last thing she wanted was to make his pain worse. And now that she could see the row of thick, black stitches in the hollow of his shoulder, her own stomach wasn't feeling the greatest.

"Sorry," he said. "Still wanting to stay?"

His eyes started to flutter closed, no doubt still under the influence of whatever anti-nausea drug Bobby had given him. Steph traded a look with Bobby and put a hand on Ranger's bicep, the skin hot and smooth under her touch.

"Ranger, I'm not going anywhere," she said softly, willing him to open his eyes and look at her. "Can you stay awake for a while so we can get you cleaned up?"

She expected his eyes to snap open again at that, especially with the implication that she would be involved. But he just breathed quietly for a few moments, and Bobby touched his shoulder again.

"Ranger, man. Hold it together for a few minutes until we can get you situated."

"Don't need to be awake," he muttered. "Seen your face enough."

Bobby held back a grin, trying to keep his professional bedside manner intact. "Maybe, but this is Steph's first time and I want to make sure she knows how to handle things before you get to the asshole stage."

Some of the words seemed to penetrate the drowsy haze. At any rate, Ranger pried his eyes open, looking once again in her direction and trying to connect the dots between what he had evidently expected and what Bobby just said.

"Babe, you don't have to—"

Steph squeezed his bicep. "Still not going anywhere. And as a member of this team for the duration, I need to pull my weight instead of being carried everywhere. You with me on this?"

His gaze flicked to Bobby for a long moment, long enough that Steph started to second guess her initial impulse. Then Bobby gave a tiny shake of his head and Ranger relaxed.

"Sure, Babe. I'm with you."

It wasn't a rousing endorsement of his confidence in her ability to take on the task, and Steph knew her behavior the past few days might give him pause as to whether she could keep this strictly professional. God knew Morelli would be making lewd comments about now, or ordering her out of the loft and downstairs where she could sit still and keep her hands to herself while the professionals handled it.

"Babe," said Ranger, waiting until she met his gaze. "Mi cuerpo es tuyo. Always."

Now it was her turn to look at Bobby, only to find the RangeMan medic trying to hide a smile that had nothing to do with amusement. Instead, it reminded her of a little boy at Christmas unwrapping a present that he knew was exactly what he'd asked Santa Claus for.

Before she had a chance to call him on it, Bobby took control of the situation. "Good. Glad we have that out of the way. Hector and I will help position you, Ranger, while Steph does the honors. If anything hurts or makes you uncomfortable, I want to hear about it. No heroics and no martyrdom, got it?"

"Sure." From Ranger's expression, Steph knew he wasn't going to utter a sound, no matter what happened. But she also figured that Bobby was familiar enough with his boss's penchant for suffering in silence and would be able to redirect her if she clumsily managed to hurt Ranger further.

"Relax, you're not going to hurt him." Bobby signaled to Hector, who stepped forward with the basin of water and a wash cloth folded neatly over his tattooed forearm.

The next fifteen minutes were some of the most surreal of her life, and that was saying a lot. Hector waited until Steph was in position between him and the side of the bed, then settled the basin within easy reach. Steph dipped the rough terry cloth rag into the water that was just barely cooler than her skin temperature. The droplets ran over the back over her hands as she squeezed the excess moisture out of the cloth, striking the surface of the water like delicate crystal chimes.

Bobby folded back the blanket covering Ranger's arm and side closest to her, baring him to the waist. She placed the rag against the smooth skin of his arm, watching as an involuntary shiver ran over his muscles, and immediately felt guilty.

"Sorry," she whispered, and his eyes darted towards her.

"Don't be," said Ranger, his voice equally soft. "You're doing fine."

That obvious untruth wrung a strangled laugh out of her, especially since she hadn't done anything more monumental than touch him with a rag already going cold. But it gave her the courage to press the wash cloth more firmly against his skin, rinsing it and wringing it out faster as she covered the rest of his shoulder and down his side.

The only sound in the loft was the water splashing in the basin and Bobby's quiet instructions as he and Hector watched Steph finish that part of Ranger's body and moved to his hip and leg. Surprisingly, it was Hector who covered the shoulder and arm with the thick blanket and then folded the covering over his left leg, making sure that he exposed only the leg and kept everything else covered.

Warmth flooded her cheeks as Steph remembered exactly how much of Ranger's body she had familiarized herself with over the years. Her fingers wanted to walk along the line of his hip bone, tracing that muscle to his washboard abs and then—

Somehow Steph wrestled her eyes and her mind away from that tempting path. She scolded herself silently as she swept the wash cloth over his thickly corded upper leg down to his knee. Ranger's foot flexed when Steph passed over the inside of his knee, an she bit her lip, aware that she had discovered a gold mine of information just from that innocent little reaction.

The only question was if she would ever be able to take advantage of it again.

Still worrying her lower lip between her teeth, Steph forced herself to use a firmer touch as she ran the cloth over his lower leg and foot. Then Bobby took over on the right side, folding back the blanket and guiding her so she didn't get the stitches wet on either Ranger's knee or his shoulder and avoiding the IV port and line.

By the time Steph finished, washing the back of his neck and around his head, her fingers were trembling only a little less than her knees. Hector took the cloth from her and vanished downstairs with the basin of now-dirty water while Bobby guided her to sit on the foot of the bed.

"Sit, sweetie. You done good."

All she could dredge up was a wan smile, but Bobby patted her shoulder and went to Ranger, checking over his IV and the injuries. She watched as the RangeMan medic swabbed thick antibiotic cream on the rows of stitches, then covered all of it with a thick gauze pad that he taped down.

When he was done, he glanced in her direction. "Feel up to helping get him dressed?"

That roused her curiosity. As far as Steph knew, Ranger's habit of sleeping in the au naturel extended to when he was in the wind. Although as a tendril of cold air curled around her ankle, she conceded that insisting on that might result in frostbite in rather inconvenient places.

"Sure." Steph forced a cheerful note into her voice, pushing herself out of the chair with a strength she didn't really feel. "Is there a specific way to do this?"

"A few tips and tricks you might want to learn," said Bobby as he brought out the ubiquitous RangeMan black duffle bag. "We'll leave the shirt off for now, since getting it around the IV might prove problematic. You're planning on sleeping up here, right?"

"I—" Steph broke off, not quite sure if she had the nerve to make that claim. Granted, Ranger seemed to prefer it when she slept within his sight lately, but that didn't mean he wanted her to assume he was always okay with her climbing into his admittedly smaller bed and draping herself over him.

"Tuyo, Babe," Ranger muttered, coughing a little when the words stuck in his dry throat. "Get something to eat and then come back. I want to hold you…"

"And that's all you will be doing," said Bobby forcefully. "I may have to hand pump the water, but you know damn well it's going to be fucking cold. I will do everything in my power to make sure it is."

Ranger grinned lazily, his eyes sliding closed again. "Hot air. Nothin' but…hot air."

Bobby sighed and jerked his head towards the stairs. "Go ahead and grab something to eat. I'll get the comedian here dressed and then you can scamper up here and take the first shift tonight."

Behind him, Ranger winked at her, a movement so subtle and swift that Steph almost convinced herself that it hadn't happened. But when both men waited for her to move, she hastily pushed herself to her feet and tottered the short distance to the steps.

Steph steadied herself with a hand on the wall, the rough wood biting into the skin just enough to make her lean less heavily on it. Hector leaned against the wall at the bottom of the flight, his arms crossed over his chest and his entire body ostensibly at rest while his eyes betrayed the hard, glittering light that said he would not sleep while it fell to him to guard both Ranger and Steph.

It was that harsh light that slowed her descent, arresting her feet until they came to a stop two steps above the first floor. Steph hesitated, then reached out to touch Hector's shoulder. His dark eyes swung towards her, considering her with the coldness of a predator not yet certain of challenge. Then he blinked and the coldness receded, flowing back into the depths where it would wait until he called it out again.

He smiled at her, his arms loosening up enough that he could cover her hand with his. Then he wrapped his fingers around hers, a glint in his eyes that might have been an amused twinkle, and jerked her forward hard.

Steph yelped, the startled sound of someone who suddenly found herself airborne. She tensed against the inevitable hard landing on the floor when Hector wrapped her up in his arms and swung her around, gently setting Steph on her feet next to him.

Her heart double-timed, pounding in her chest as she stared at him in shock for a long moment. Hector didn't blink, his grin still firmly in place, then he made the gun sign with his forefinger and thumb and said "Bang."

For a moment she stared at him, her eyes wide even as the pounding of her heart eased. Then her eyes narrowed as Steph considered that while she might have let her guard down because Lester Santos was half a continent away, she might just have a worse joker skulking in their midst.

Hector had seen more things in his years than she could have ever hoped to survive—even Helen Plum's death glare perfected from years of practice in the Burg would bounce right off him. Steph considered her options, and couldn't find it in her heart to hold a grudge for all of three seconds of surprise.

Not even stopping to consider her actions, Steph took one step forward and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him fiercely. She hung off him, standing on tiptoes, for one moment before his arms came around her and he was hugging her back with a fierce strength.

"Gracias, Hector," Steph whispered in his ears. "For everything."

"De nada," he said, just as soft. He loosened his embrace and Steph stepped back enough to see his face. Those dark, dark eyes were softer now, and his smile was that of an older brother with a much-cherished sibling.

And that made her smile.

"Brother?" asked Steph.

Surprise flared in Hector's gaze, then it was gone, swallowed by the darkness. For the first time since she'd met him, Steph saw uncertainty in his face, a crack in the façade of absolute confidence that the former gang member wore like a shield. She remembered Hira, standing toe to toe with her brother by blood, furious that he'd dragged the family into another complication in a lifetime of mistakes and indiscretions, and shook her head.

"No, never mind. That was insensitive of me."

"No," said Hector forcefully. He gathered her close, laying his head alongside hers as he hugged her with a desperate strength so at odds with the previous playful hug. "Mi hermana. My sister."

A knot of something deep inside melted away, and she closed her eyes as she hugged Hector back, testing the warmth where that knot had been, and realizing that it had been loneliness. Her sister Val had always viewed her as a necessary annoyance that she was forced to haul to places around the Burg when they were growing up. But then Valerie became Saint Valerie, married to a good man and the mother of two adorable little girls. Even when Val moved home, sans the husband and most of their marital goods, she had still been the favored one, enshrined by the Burg for her martyrdom of a runaway husband and then her subsequent marriage to a lawyer.

Albert Kloughn, the lawyer, but a lawyer nonetheless.

At one time her father had been her protector, but as she grew older he withdrew, leaving her mother to raise the girls and guide them in the proper ways of being a woman who could hold her head up among the neighbors and family. Ever since Steph realized that she was on her own, something small and innocent inside of her had curled itself into a ball and shut out the rest of the world.

Not any more. There wasn't any need to, now that she had a real brother.

She took a deep breath. "Mi her…herman…"

"Hermano," said Hector. "Tu hermana, mi hermano."

"Hermano," Steph said, testing the word. "Hector is mi hermano."

That earned her another hug, then he carefully released her, letting her choose to move away. Steph did after a second's worth of hesitation. Surprisingly, she wasn't as scared or uncertain as she had been only a few moments before. Hector called himself her brother, and if there was one thing she knew about the former gang member, it was that he took his commitments very seriously.

As would she.

A yawn cracked her jaw and Steph tried to cover it with both hands. But no sooner had it ended before another one took its place, and then another. Hector shook his head at her and placed his hands on her shoulders, turning her completely around and urging her towards where Manny was dishing up scrambled eggs from a heavy cast iron skillet to Hal and Woody.

Hector followed Steph, saying something to Manny in Spanish that had the latter scraping a generous helping of the eggs onto a plate in front of an empty chair. He distributed the rest of the main dish among the others, then swapped out the skillet for a warming plate that he'd kept covered on the back of the stove.

As Steph settled into the indicated place, Hector brushed a kiss over the top of her head and took the seat directly to her left at the head of the table. He waited for the others to be served and then took Steph's hand as she waited to start. Steph glanced at him, once again startled, but Hector shook his head slightly and glanced at the other men around the table.

Woody took her other hand, holding his out to Manny who set the skillet aside and completed the circle as Hal linked hands with him and Hector. There was a long pause, then Woody cleared his throat and said a short but succinct blessing over the food.

For her part, Steph kept her head down but her eyes open, not quite sure if she should squirm in her seat or not. Around her parents' table growing up, the blessing of the food had been rattled off faster than a Hail Mary after a Saturday confession. And while Woody didn't dress it up with long flourishes and big words, it was easy to see that he was speaking something he was very familiar with.

She risked a peek at Hal and saw him with his head bowed and his eyes tightly shut, a habit no doubt ingrained in him from his midwestern upbringing.

"—Amen."

Woody finished his prayer and Hal echoed the last word as Manny and Hector crossed themselves. Steph was only a half step behind on the familiar gesture, and as her hand dropped into her lap, she felt a chill sweep across her neck and cheek and she shivered, not quite sure of what her spidey sense was trying to tell her.

Sitting around a table in a warm cabin with plenty of food before her and the man she loved upstairs as her newly chosen brother ate beside her, Steph tried to push the premonition away. They were tens if not hundreds of miles away from civilization and the places where it would be easy to find them. Between the military transport and the SUVs, they were well and truly buried out in the middle of nowhere.

So there was absolutely no reason why her neck should be on fire with a tingling that could light up the entire cabin, and absolutely no reason to believe she was going to find out the reason why in the next few hours, whether she liked it or not.

Her eyes tracked back up to the loft, where she could see Bobby's shadow against the ceiling as he tended to Ranger and as her fork speared a clump of eggs, Steph added a silent prayer that she would be able to protect the man she loved from whatever was about to happen.

 _Please, God._


	20. Chapter 20

_All recognizable characters belong to Janet Evanovich and are used here without intent to profit. Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed. I hope you enjoy this new chapter._

* * *

Steph ignored the buzzing and crackling of her nerves endings as best she could, trying to eat and laugh and smile just like normal. But her smiles gradually grew less and her silences longer until she found herself shoving a little bit of egg around her plate, listening to the scrape of the fork against the stoneware and watching the trails of moisture thin and vanish behind it.

A hand came down over hers, startling her. Steph dropped the fork, wincing as it clattered loudly on the plate and then bounced off the table completely, vanishing somewhere underneath it. Looking up, she saw the guys watching her, their expressions grim.

"What is it, Steph?" asked Manny. "Something's bothering you."

She shook her head, her shoulders going up in a half-shrug. "It's nothing. I—just something buzzing across my nerves. It's probably—"

The entire cabin shook, the rafters creaking as the great logs buttressing the roof shifted against the sudden force bearing down on them. Dull roaring surrounded the cabin, loud enough she could hear the trees outside bend and twist as their intertwined branches groaned under the onslaught of the wind.

"What is it?" asked Steph, half-rising from her chair.

Hector slid his hand to her arm, pulling her down again as Woody frowned and pushed his chair back from the table.

"We weren't supposed to get any windstorms this far north. The weather guys all said—"

Another gust hammered at the cabin, tossing the pine trees clustered around it churning in the darkness. The roaring was a little better defined, enough so that she could hear the difference between the maples and the evergreens. One roared and slapped together leathery old summer leaves, and the other played a basso profundo note through the thousands of needles until the trees groaned for mercy from the ravening and tearing.

Silently, the Merry Men swung into action. Manny cleared the plates, dumping them onto the kitchen counter with a clatter of silverware. Hal and Woody split, one going to each side of the door with their weapons appearing like magic in their hands as Hector went around the room dousing the lights.

As the last one went out, plunging the cabin into a thick darkness, Steph trembled in her seat. A part of her wanted to run upstairs to Ranger and Bobby, huddling in a corner as the fury of nature thundered around her. But the part who had survived the bonds office blowing up, Ranger being shot and the hours that seemed like days between their parting and reunion, told her to stay exactly where she was.

Warm strong fingers closed over her hand, and she heard Hector's knife clearing its sheath. Another blow rattled the windows and the door in its frame, and the floor underneath her feet trembled. Her breath hitched, and Hector wrapped his arm around her shoulders and held her protectively close to his side.

Everyone was waiting, for what she didn't know. All Steph knew was she wanted desperately to be near Ranger, not sitting in the middle of the room in a chair as the seconds crawled over her with the needle-tipped feet of a thousand little army ants, marching in perfect rhythm towards—

The door exploded inwards, shattering into little pieces of wood. Steph caught a glimpse of a figure—the hint of something lethal and deadly swinging up—before Hector grabbed the edge of the table and upended it. He pulled her down and away as gunfire erupted in the small space, tearing at the shadows and screaming higher than the wind.

Adrenaline kicked her straight in the gut. She stumbled after Hector, keeping low as he used his arm around her back to urge her towards the kitchen. Just as they made it around the counter, she heard another crash, and prayed it wasn't Ranger drawing attention to the loft in a bid to distract the gunman.

Hector pushed her into a lower cabinet, touching her lips with a fingertip as a signal to stay quiet. She shook her head, trying to tell him she didn't want to hide, and he pressed something warm and very heavy into her hands.

The smell of bacon grease clogged her nostrils, and Steph rolled her eyes, thinking immediately that she hadn't crossed half the continent to be reduced to taking on the bad guys with a kitchen utensil. But Hector didn't wait for her to protest; he propped the door open so she could see, then he was gone through the darkness.

The gunshots ceased and she held her breath, wondering if one of the guys had managed to take out the intruder. Any moment now, the lights would go back on, and she would hear their voices as they cleared the rest of the cabin and started the clean up. Hector or Manny would come get her, and they would joke about how eating her cooking would probably kill the gunman quicker than her aim, and she would pretend to swing the heavy cast iron frying pan at them.

 _Any minute..._

But the cabin stayed dark, and her breath came shallower and shallower in a tightening chest. A floorboard creaked near the wood stove, and her muscles stiffened. Holding her breath, Steph strained to hear more, her heart constricted so tightly she didn't think it would ever beat again.

Not for the first time, she regretted her childhood obsession with classic horror stories. She remembered cowering in blankets, bathed in the light from the TV in the dark as she watched the late night shows on the summer weekends, the sound turned down so her parents wouldn't find her out of bed. Even without the soundtrack, the pictures were frightening enough that her heart pounded in her chest as terror froze her muscles.

The encounters were always the same, with the heroine meeting the big evil in the middle of nowhere, and she was all alone. No matter how many friends or protectors she started out with, by the time she walked into a deserted cabin or decrepit mansion, she would be completely alone, and her frightened voice would echo as she tried to convince herself that she wasn't in any mortal danger.

A shadow, or what her terrified mind saw as a shadow, darkened the floor in the tiny sliver she could see through the propped open door. She heard breathing above her, and her fingers tightened on the handle of the frying pan. The cupboard door jerked open, and before Steph could think, she swung the edge of the heavy cast iron up as hard as she could.

Metal clanged off metal, followed by a short burst of gunfire so close it deafened her. Then everything went quiet, broken only by a gurgle and a peculiar-sounding thump. Something warm and liquid spattered across her skin, running down her forearms and dripping off her fingers.

Once again Steph froze, like a rabbit cornered by a wolf, and only dimly registered a light going on in the main part of the cabin and the sight of Hector crouched over a strange man, his hands covered in the blood that had sprayed out of his severed carotid artery and splattered against the cupboards and floor.

The cast iron pan slipped out of her fingers, and Steph leaned over and was silently sick, her stomach rejecting every little bit of food she'd eaten only a few minutes before. Dimly she heard voices, and knew the Merry Men were removing the body and trying to clean up the mess, but she couldn't erase the memory of the blood pumping out of a body onto the floor, and the knowledge that he would have killed her, and every one of the Merry Men, and probably shot Ranger as he slept upstairs.

 _Ranger..._

Scrubbing at her snotty nose with the back of her hand, Steph tried to pull herself together. There was no way to make herself look presentable, not with blood and mucous and other very unpleasant body fluids coating her skin and soaking her clothes, but still she shut her eyes for a moment and tried to find some of the calm she'd seen Ranger use so effectively.

Her boot skidded out from under her on the first try at getting up, leaving a red streak mark on the floor. There wasn't any place she could put her hands to help herself get out of the cupboard, so Steph reached blindly above her head and found the edge of the counter. Tightening her fingers, she took a deep breath and steeled herself for what she would find when she was able to see the rest of the cabin.

Strong fingers wrapped around her wrist, steadying her as she unfolded from the small space and then pulling her upright. Steph found herself staring straight at Ranger as he leaned across the counter. He was still shirtless, the stitches stark against his paler-than-normal skin, but his expression was cold and determined, and the light in his dark eyes hard and terrifying, with absolutely no sign of the sleepiness or weakness.

"Ranger," she whispered, "but you're supposed to be—"

"C'mere, Babe," he said, shifting so she could scoot across the counter. "Let me hold you for a second."

That was all the impetus she needed. Steph scooted across the narrow laminate, ignoring the blood, her only focus on getting into the safety of his arms before the cruel world closed in on them again. As she landed on the floor, he wrapped her up tightly, guiding her head to his chest and bending his own head to rest beside hers.

"It's okay," he whispered, his mouth close to her ear. "Everything is going to be okay."

Steph squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her nose against his bare chest and concentrating on deep breathing. Every terror that she had once experienced as a child, whether from her active imagination or gossip whispered into the phone by her mother or grandmother, seemed intent on clenching their cold fingers around her heart until it burst.

Ranger kept whispering to her, switching over to Spanish when the shuddering of her body didn't stop. Steph wrapped her arms around his waist, trying to be careful, but she must have bumped the wrong spot, because he winced. Then the part of her brain that was still functioning broke through the fog and announced she was missing something very, very important.

Her head came up, her eyes wide as she stared into Ranger's face. "Your IV!"

His left shoulder went up slightly in a shrug. "Took it out. Hard to run a counterattack dragging one of those along."

"Wouldn't be the first time," came Bobby's voice from somewhere in the middle of the cabin. "Bomber, you okay? Do you need me to check you out?"

"Yeah," Ranger said, placing a soft kiss on Steph's forehead. "She was a little close. Help her get cleaned up while we finish things down here. ID?"

"Nothing yet. Hector and Manny are handling it."

Ranger didn't push her away, but his arms around her loosened a little, giving her the choice of whether to power through the rest of this or stay safe and comfortable in his grasp for a while longer. She breathed in his unique scent, the Bvlgari she usually adored long-absent from his skin. That scent belonged to Trenton and regular showers. Now she could detect the alluring musk that always combined with it to create the lethal combination that could fell a woman within three feet.

"You okay?" he asked, still holding her protectively close to his body.

One more breath for courage, and Steph nodded. "Yeah, I'll be okay."

"That's my girl. Go with Bobby and wash everything off. He can check you over and make sure there's nothing you're not feeling yet."

She put a hand on his chest, then got distracted when she realized with the force of a physical blow that Ranger _really_ wasn't wearing a shirt. Evidently stopping to put on clothes wasn't in the emergency response rule for RangeMan, either.

"Babe."

She blew out her breath, watching in fascination as he shivered at the touch of it across his skin. "Seriously, Ranger? You couldn't stop to put something on? How would you like it if I ran around without a shirt?"

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Steph knew she'd made a mistake. Pressed so close to him that she could feel every reaction, she discovered exactly how much Ranger was on board with the suggestion. The only drawback was that no matter how much he wanted something, his self-discipline and control wouldn't let him follow up on it.

He glanced at the activity in the room behind them, then dipped his head to kiss her on the tip of her nose. "Someday, Babe. We'll get there some day."

That was her cue. In the brief years of their knowing each other and working together, Steph picked up on the little signals Ranger used to let her know what to do next. The playful kiss and the words were his way of telling her to let go and let him get back to work, that they would pick up the discussion of their personal lives at a later date when the danger was locked down.

Only Steph didn't want to let go. She never wanted to feel the horrible emptiness gnawing at her from the inside when she saw him in the parking lot of the bonds office, down on one knee, soaked with his own blood and slipping away from her forever.

"Steph. It's okay. We're safe."

His voice was muffled, coming from a great distance as she struggled to free herself from that horrible memory. She heard the gunshots from the street as Tank and Connie held the gangs at bay, the crackle of the flames devouring the bonds office and the high-edged voice of the lone gangster pointing a gun straight at her. Steph stared at the kid, realizing that he couldn't be more than fourteen, a child balanced on the cusp of manhood. Only his graduation would see him more likely than not dead, shot down and left to rot in a street gutter somewhere on Stark.

The single gunshot shattered the stillness around her. Steph flinched hard, watching as if in slow motion as the kid spun away from her, his finger tightening on the trigger of his own gun, firing it in an echo of the shot that killed him.

He was dead. She knew it, watching with an odd detachment as his t-shirt went red over his heart and his knees gave way with the liquidness of a body no longer functioning under the direction of the brain. Her head swung to the left, vaguely surprised to find the Firebird gone. Ranger knelt on the broken pavement, his left hand dropping towards the ground as sunlight glinted on the barrel of his holdout .357. He swayed, nearly toppling over, and wedged his elbow into—

"Stephanie!"

Her name ricocheted through her brain, tearing at the memory until it dissolved into tiny pieces that blew away in the wind.

 _The wind—_

Steph blinked, the roaring in her ears changing until she recognized the dull thunder of the storm ripping at the pine trees outside the cabin. She blinked again and everything else swam into focus. She stared at Ranger as his voice penetrated the fog around her brain, and the urgency in it nearly broke her heart.

"Stephanie. Babe. Say something."

She focused on the lines of exhaustion carved deep into the skin around his mouth and eyes, and the paleness of his skin. She wanted so much to soothe him, comforting him until he could rest and regain his strength. The worry in his dark eyes twisted a knife in her heart.

"Babe?"

"You shot him," she said, not even really hearing the words coming out of her mouth.

Ranger flinched, the movement so tiny that she would have missed it if she hadn't been looking straight at him. "What?"

"That kid…behind the bonds office." Steph struggled with the image fading in her memory, trying to get the message across that her brain didn't seem to want to make clear. "You killed him."

Ranger pushed away from her so quickly that Steph staggered backwards. Bobby caught her before she fell, and then Ranger was gone, limping away from her with Hector at his side steadying his faltering but determined steps. Her heart lurched and when she took a step after him, it was Bobby who pulled her up short.

"Leave him be, Bomber. He wasn't expecting that from you."

"But I—" She stared after him, aware she was covered in the blood spatters of a dead man and the remnants of her meal, and thinking she didn't blame Ranger for wanting to put distance between them. "I didn't mean it like that. I was just—how did he make that shot? _Why?_ "

"If you have to ask, then you're not ready to understand," said Bobby, and she could have screamed in frustration. "Easy, sweetie. Let's go upstairs and get you cleaned up. I don't like that you got his blood on you, and I'm going to check you over. We'll have to stop at a clinic somewhere and get bloodwork done, just in case our friend had some nasty diseases."

The room spun around her, but Steph used as much of her anger and frustration to keep herself upright. Ranger needed her to be strong and not a distraction, and the guys would need her, too.

"Bobby, was anyone else hurt?"

He put his arm around her waist. "Upstairs, Bomber. You can find out later."

"No, I need to know—"

Ram stepped through the ruined door, a heavy weight sprawled across his shoulders and his face grim. "Bobby? Need you here, man."

The medic was already crossing the room as Hal set the table upright. Ram lowered his burden onto the surface and Junior's hands dropped limply off the edges, his eyes closed and face pale in the lamplight.

"Oh, God," whispered Steph. She didn't dare faint and take Bobby's attention away from the injured man, so she felt her way to the bottom step going up to the loft and sat down just as her legs gave out.

"What happened?"

Ranger's question cut through the tension in the cabin as Bobby went to work, snapping orders to Hector who was playing assistant. Together, they searched for injuries and did everything possible to give the Merry Man the best chance he had at surviving so far from any trauma center.

"We were on perimeter, following standard procedure when the wind came up. I attempted contact with Junior without an answer and sent out an alert to Hector, but you guys were already under attack. So I worked my way around to where he was supposed to be and found him in a gully just west of the cabin."

Ram glanced at Steph and then shook his head slightly when she started to get up, warning her to not come any closer. Steph debated for all of two seconds as to whether she should ignore it, but then she reminded herself this wasn't about her. Instead, she nodded once and settled down on her step, well out of their way and yet close enough to hear what was said.

"Was he able to tell you anything?" Ranger asked the question in a quiet voice, but the intense light in his dark eyes as he stared at his injured man belied the tremendous amount of anger he was controlling. "Did he see who did it?"

Ram reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a plastic bag. Bloodstained papers were obvious through the clear plastic, and Steph held her breath as he held it out to his boss.

"He had these crumpled in his hands. I saw footprints that were the same size as our friend here coming in from the north. It looked like he caught Junior unawares but he put up a fight before he was disabled."

Ranger's fingers closed around the bag, crumpling the papers inside for a moment before he mastered the reaction. His blank face smoothed out his features, banking the light in his eyes but doing nothing to disguise the tension in every line of his body. Ranger might not be dressed like a former special forces mercenary, but in that brief moment between Ram's words and the realization of how close their enemies had come to finding them, he changed into the dangerous hunter who killed as the situation required, and pledged himself to safeguard his men's lives.

The turmoil that had to be raging under the calm surface didn't show as Ranger snapped on a pair of latex gloves Woody gave him and took the papers out of the bag. He turned over each one, scanning the words on them. Then his dark gaze flicked to the next man.

"Hal, who is the infiltrator?"

Large, hulking, gentle Hal looked ready to rip someone apart with his bare hands, but instead he focused on the smart phone and read the information off the screen. The thin plastic case creaked in his grip as he scrolled through the lines.

"Francois Piermont. Gun for hire, specializes in deep wilderness. Raised in the Northwest Territories and Canadian Rockies. Keeps to himself and disappears for weeks at a time into the ranges. Difficult to contact but once he takes a job he sticks with it until it's done or he's called off. He hasn't been called off for failure to find in about eight years."

"Papers?"

The one word was soft, but the expression on Ranger's face was anything but. Manny offered the evidence this time, and Ranger went through them with the same thoroughness he'd shown for the injured Junior's papers.

Steph leaned hard against the wall, unaware she was clenching her hands tightly except for an occasional pain where a fingernail razored into the flesh. Her thoughts still couldn't settle on the questions careening through her head, and they dived through her brain until she felt like she could jump out of her skin.

"We have two different suspects, and at least two employers behind them." Bobby spoke up for the first time. He set his med kit down on the floor next to the rest of the gear. "Junior is stable. Two gunshots, one to the shoulder and the other to his hip. He'll need care, but I think he's good enough to get to the border at least."

"Lay out what we know," said Ranger, setting down the papers and pulling up a chair for himself. His posture wasn't ramrod straight, but he wasn't giving in to physical weakness.

Bobby paused, giving his boss a shrewd look that said he knew exactly how much Ranger had left. "We know Piermont liked to work for former Russian interests. They paid well and he wouldn't run afoul of other first world mercenaries very often, or at least not frequently enough to endanger his business."

Ram shrugged. "He was a little pissant who liked to brag. I remember crossing paths with him a few years ago in one of the 'stans. He didn't get paid that trip out."

"Grudge?" asked Hal, but Ram shook his head.

"No reason to. He chose the losing side, and never even left the starting gate. We can do some digging. I'll let Lester know to pull the info and Bomber can work her magic over it to see if there's a link."

"Pull everything we've got, and grab anything we can dig up from the alphabet agencies and their databases," said Ranger, returning the papers to the evidence bag and stripping off the gloves. "Dispose of Piermont's remains. If he has family, we can notify them later and they can decide if they want to disinter for reburial elsewhere."

"What about Junior?" Steph blurted out as Ranger pulled himself upright and started towards the ruined door. She shrank back as he directed his dark, cold gaze to her. There was no softening in his expression, no indication that he even remembered who she was. "He needs a trauma center."

"Bobby patched him up," said Ranger tersely. "Once we get close to the border, we'll strip out all of our electronics. Cars, phones, everything. We'll be blind until we reach the safe house and plug in. These people have cost us enough in pain, injuries and death."

His tone turned bitter, and sharp. "As you so eloquently pointed out, I shot and killed that kid back in Trenton. He was the first; he's not going to be the last."

Ranger limped out, followed closely by Hector. He never looked back, and certainly never offered Steph any indication that he was thinking of anything other than the new face of their danger.

Ram and Hal exchanged glances and Steph knew that she was once again in the way. Gathering the tiny shreds left of her dignity, she climbed to her feet, intending to head upstairs and clean off the mess she'd become. Again.

Bobby caught her arm. "Steph, it's not personal. He doesn't mean—"

Gently, Steph removed herself from his grasp. "Bobby, you as well as I know Ranger doesn't say anything he doesn't mean. I understand that right now his concern is getting us out of here and protecting his men. I'll do whatever he needs me to do to make that job easier."

Her eyes flicked towards the darkness where the door had been and where the wind screamed like a tortured soul beyond it. Somewhere in the stormy night, Ranger prowled with his men, seeking the answers to questions they hadn't even realized they were supposed to be asking.

"Maybe I should have gone to the other safe house after all."


	21. Chapter 21

_All recognizable characters belong to Janet Evanovich and are used here without intent to profit. Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed. My apologies for missing last week—some not-great news on the medical front for several family members and a death in the extended family has taken a large portion of my energy. And just as I was ready to post this earlier, the cat trotted through the room with her latest capture. So I am late again, but the mouse was rather lively and containing it quickly without hurting it is a test of skills I haven't quite mastered yet._

* * *

The SUV rumbled over the ground, its suspension groaning as Manny hit every bump and rut that God or man had built into the faint two-track barely visible in the headlights. Steph's head bounced off the side window and she winced. Her ass hurt, her back hurt and her heart hurt most of all, but nobody wanted to hear her complain, even if she thought it was worth it.

Actually, Steph didn't plan on opening her mouth to talk again any time soon. The one time she'd asked Bobby at the cabin about the wisdom of driving off into the dark in the mountains, Ranger had materialized right beside her and curtly told her she was welcome to stay behind and wait for the next killer to show up if that would make her feel better.

Steph shut down after that. She followed Bobby's instructions in loading the SUV and making Junior comfortable in the cargo area. She settled into the shotgun position next to Manny while Hector and Bobby joined them and silently endured the jouncing without one word of complaint. Woody drove the lead SUV with Hal, Ranger and Ram, and so far they hadn't slowed down as they sped through the night at a dangerous rate.

Manny glanced at her sideways. "We'll be at the border by midafternoon, Steph. Then another twelve or so hours if we don't stop except for rest breaks and we should be to the safe house before sunrise."

"Yay," she said without sarcasm. "I'm sure you guys wouldn't mind sleeping for a couple days."

"It'll work out," he said. "You'll see. Ranger just goes into command mode when it's needed. Once he's had a chance to get a handle on this, everything will be fine."

There really wasn't an answer for that one, at least not one that Steph believed enough to sell. Between the worry over Junior's condition and the hurt over Ranger's reaction to her, she really didn't know which way to turn.

Steph went back over the memory she'd seen in her mind, wondering why it was so vivid. Most of it was like a collage of little details that she hadn't noticed at the time they were happening. Eddie hadn't fired his gun as he approached the gang member from the back. If he had, the kid might have spun towards Steph and hit her when his finger tightened reflexively on the trigger.

 _How did Ranger know? How could he have predicted that his shot would take the kid down?_

Silence filled the SUV, the same dead air that had dogged them ever since they left the cabin. The killer was buried under a pile of rocks somewhere under the trees, marked by Ram and Woody with GPS for future reference. The rest of it she didn't dare ask about and wasn't completely sure she wanted to know.

Given what they had left behind them and with Junior's injuries, it seemed wrong to fill up the quiet with empty headed chatter, like she might if this was a long stakeout. Instead, Steph toyed with the phone clutched in her hand, staring at the blank screen and trying to work up the courage to take the next step.

"It'll be all right, Steph," said Manny, but she shook her head, knowing she had screwed up somehow, and not knowing how to put it right.

Bravery was something she associated with Ranger and his men. The only thing she had was the bravado that came from ignorance. That ignorance was because of her sheltered life in the insular Burg and the stubborn, willful blindness about what she could do and be. The Bombshell Bounty Hunter was a myth built on insane luck. If anyone else attempted the same stunts she pulled, they would have been dead several times over.

It was long past time for Stephanie Plum to grow up. It was long past time that she quit relying on blind luck and God's good graces.

"Manny?" she asked softly. "Do you think Hector could get me a digital copy of the RangeMan employee handbook?"

"What do you need it for?"

Steph sighed and tapped her two fingers against the hard case of the phone as she struggled to put her thoughts into words. "I need to read it. All this time it's been stuck in the desk drawer in my cubicle, and I never bothered. If I had, maybe I would have noticed something was off sooner. Maybe I can still figure out what's going on and who is pulling the strings. No one should be able to track us this fast, not unless they have assets all over the continent just waiting for a signal to move in."

"It's doable. Any other reason?"

She squirmed, hating that she was so transparent everyone could read her like a book. "I didn't take it seriously, and I'm sorry. I didn't respect you or Ranger or any of the men, and now Junior is badly hurt and could have died, you and Ram and Hector are injured and I'm still rattling around without a clue. So if we're going to be driving for a while, I might as well get started on reading it, because I have a long way to go."

"You'll get there," he said, "and I'll help any way I can, okay? Just ask if you don't understand where to go next. You've got all of us to keep you on the right path."

"Just not Ranger." Steph bit her lip as the words slipped out. Then she sighed. "Don't tell Ranger about it. Let him think I'm just trying not to go stir crazy in the middle of nowhere and need the exercise or the mental stimulation or whatever. I'm sure we'll run through whatever puzzles you have stashed in the safe house, there's no TV and if we play too many board games I'll be afraid someone will strangle me in my sleep."

By this time Manny was grinning openly, and she ducked her head to hide the annoyance in her expression. It was bad enough that Joe Morelli thought she was a joke; it hurt worse to think she was now nothing but entertainment to the men she respected so much.

Hector tapped on her shoulder and she turned her head as he showed her the screen on his smart phone. Unlike every other person she knew, the former gang member did not have pictures of cute puppies or kittens as the wallpaper on his home screen. Instead, it looked like the blue print to something very complicated that could have been a nuclear bomb or a better mousetrap.

Impatiently, Hector shook the phone slightly, focusing her gaze on the little icon in the upper right-hand corner. Steph squinted to make out the name of it, then nodded. He sat back in his seat, and punched in a couple of commands.

Hastily, Steph powered on the phone that had been Ranger's and seemed to be hers for now. As the lock screen came up, she bit her lip and tapped in her birthdate. Not for the first time since they'd left the cabin did she wonder if he had already changed the password for his new phone to something that wouldn't remind him of her. The phone chimed softly, alerting her that Hector had sent a connect request through the wireless app. She hit the accept option and a status bar popped up, filling in rapidly as he sent the information across the secure link. The phone chimed again and the screen blinked, going black.

Panic swept over her, and Steph gripped the phone tighter as she stared at the dark screen, praying fervently that she hadn't managed to finally break the state of the art electronic. Then a white circle with a fingerprint appeared and she glanced at Hector before pressing the pad of her right thumb over it.

The phone beeped again and her name appeared at the top of the screen. It flashed green, then several pages flipped by too fast to catch. The words _RangeMan LLC_ appeared on the screen, black on white, with a little arrow at the bottom helpfully pointing to her right.

Hector patted her shoulder and went back to his own phone, and Steph took a deep breath and tapped the arrow. The table of contents came up and her eye immediately tracked to the bottom, a little dismayed to see the page numbers in the triple digits and another arrow below that. Then she remembered the look in Ranger's eyes and she scrolled to the first page of the handbook.

The least she could do was take this seriously, and she would show Ranger she was in it for the long haul.

Halfway through the first page of the introduction and mission statement, Steph stopped. She flipped ahead to the body of the handbook and when she returned to the first page, she felt like smiling for the first time. The hint was very subtle, but now that she knew what she was looking for, it was undeniably there.

Ranger wrote the handbook, no doubt when he first started the company. His voice was there, calm, direct and utterly confident, and it reminded her of the former special forces veteran she first met in a diner looking like he'd wandered off Stark Street. In her mind's eye, Steph could see him in the original office on Cameron, his desk light the only thing visible in the empty building as he crafted the words that would give shape to the business he was bringing to life.

The next time she lifted her eyes from the screen, it was because Manny slowed the SUV and parked with a tired sigh. Her next glance out the window had her hastily shutting down the reading app and putting the phone in her pocket.

Steph's hand was on the handle and the door unlatched before she stopped herself. Carefully she pulled the door closed and took her hands away, folding them in her lap.

"Something wrong?" Manny asked, his hands still resting on the steering wheel.

She shook her head, watching as Ranger eased out of the SUV ahead of them. Bobby jogged around the back of their vehicle and towards him, lending his support when his boss stumbled. Steph wanted to be out there, but she was also determined to put into practice what she'd read so far in the handbook.

"I'm waiting for the all-clear," she said. "I may be a member of the team, but I've also been a high value target to these people. So I'm waiting until you or the lead team tells me it's okay to get out."

He grinned. "You armed?"

Steph slid the butt of the Glock out of her pocket. "Yep. But I should get a shoulder holster so I don't shoot something important before I have to."

"Good idea. We'll move that to the top on the list." Manny waited while Hector got out, then watched until the former gang member gave him a wave. "Looks like we're good to go."

Once again Steph waited while he came around the front of the SUV to her side. Steph was very much aware she was getting curious looks from the other vehicle. Bobby watched her openly, but Ranger was also taking special note that she hadn't jumped out with her usual energy and heedlessness. Just as he took a step towards them, Manny opened her door and she slid out, one hand resting on the grip of the Glock.

Fresh mountain air smelled a lot different than the soup that passed for breathable in New Jersey. There was a thin sharpness to it, a hard edge that caught in her throat and made her cough a couple of times as her lungs struggled to adjust to the difference. The pine scent was different from the Barrens, too. That was thick and filled the nostrils. The scent here teased and tickled, as if the trees weren't quite ready to share with strangers just passing through.

At least she hoped they were passing through, because there wasn't a whole lot here that she wanted to stick around and get to know better.

As a matter of fact, there wasn't a lot of _here_ here, either. While the two-track trail was still visible just beyond this clearing, it was surrounded by towering pine trees so high that she could see just a little patch of sky. And without the sunlight that was little more than a promise, the wind had a chilled edge as it rippled through the branches.

Steph shivered but didn't make a move to go back to the warmth of the SUV. The rest of the guys were standing in shirt sleeves and none of them seemed to be affected by the cold, so she straightened her shoulders, kept her hand on the Glock and followed Manny.

"—crossing the border near Eureka," said Ram as he spread a creased laminated map across the hood of the lead SUV. "We'll time it so we're near late afternoon and stagger the crossing. Steph, are you comfortable driving?"

"Me?" she asked, surprised when everyone's eyes swung towards her. "Why me?"

He grinned. "Because you'll be memorable to the border agents as a perky, friendly blonde and they won't remember the silent hulks sitting in the passenger and back seats."

She blushed a little, but nodded. "Yeah, I can do that. As long as I have a good navigator. I'd hate to get lost around here and have to ask directions from a bear."

"Don't ask bears," said Manny. "They don't care where they are as long as there is food."

"Unless it's a sow," muttered Woody with a dark expression.

Steph thought about asking for the back story on that, but Ranger shifted his weight sharply and she swallowed the words. She didn't dare look at him directly, partly out of fear that she would see the cold, closed-off expression he wore at the cabin and partly because she didn't want to accept that something had changed between them, and not for the better.

 _Two steps forward, three steps back._

"Are we going south through Montana and then west?" Bobby asked. "Or west then south?"

Steph struggled to hide her curiosity. Ranger still hadn't enlightened her as to where the damn safe house was located. The fact that they were in mountain country and didn't seem in a hurry to leave it warned her that she probably would learn new ways to go stir crazy once they got there.

Ranger considered the question for a long moment, his dark eyes scanning across the map while he considered the options. He was perfectly calm, his blank expression giving nothing away, and certainly not showing any of the anger he had earlier. It was like he had come to a decision in the hours since they left the cabin, and made peace with it.

"West," he said finally. "But we'll go south as fast as we can on the secondary roads after. If we must split up, the lead will continue west until they hit the turn off and the others will go immediately south and then west."

Murmurs of agreement ran through the men around her, and Steph tried to look like she was onboard with the proposal. Trailing along behind people who could figure out south and west without the benefit of road signs or helpful wildlife sounded more like her speed, at least for now.

"We've got supplies yet for roughing it if we wind up going off road." Ram folded his arms across his chest, tucking his chin in as he thought. "Worst case scenario, me and Woody can do some foraging. The wildlife is fattening up for winter, so we should be able to find enough to keep us going until we reach the ranch."

"Ranch?"

The word popped out before Steph could stop it, and she bit her lip as most of the Merry Men grinned at her surprise. Hector and Ranger were the only ones who didn't react. The former gang member didn't look thrilled by the prospect of remaining in the great outdoors and Ranger was just…blank.

Bobby slid a comforting arm around her shoulders and hugged her to his side. "Yeah, sweetie. The safe house is on a ranch. We won't be staying with the main operation, but we'll be close enough."

Steph chewed on the new information. She had ridden the ponies on the boardwalk at Point Pleasant during family vacations, but she wasn't sure she was ready for a full-size version not being led docilely in a circle around a pen with a six-foot-high fence. Her face grew hot at the mere thought of her bad car karma following her across the continental divide and what it would mean for the unlucky equine.

"RangeMan has really good liability insurance?" she asked him quietly.

Woody coughed into his hand, turning away so she wouldn't see him laugh. The RangeMan medic shot the native Texan an evil glare, but that was it. "You won't have to do anything you don't want to do. There are plenty of four wheelers so you aren't restricted to walking or riding horse."

"I'd need two horses," Hal interjected, winking at her as the other guys teased him about the poor nag consigned to haul his bulk around. Steph managed a weak smile, glad that he had taken the focus off her for at least the moment.

"Meteorological report," said Ranger, and everyone sobered up as Woody cleared his throat.

"Hector hacked himself into the National Weather Service," he said, glancing down at his smart phone. "The jet stream is buckling, so temps are colder than normal, especially at these elevations. But that should move the storm track farther south, so we won't see any precip."

"Wind gusts?" Ram asked as he folded up his map. "Or just the normal 'blow you off the cliff if you're not careful'?"

Woody shrugged. "I would stay between Bombshell and any steep drops for the duration. Winter comes early this high, and we wouldn't find her until spring melt."

"Nobody is losing Bombshell." Manny gave her a short nod. "I'd keep digging until I found you, Steph. And if anyone ever wants to eat my cooking again, they'll be out there helping."

The amusement cut off abruptly and Steph bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing at the dismay running through the men around her. Manny winked at her much as Hal had and she felt better than she had since they left the cabin. At least the Merry Men still thought she belonged on the team.

"Implement section four of the border crossing protocol," said Ranger abruptly, cutting through the banter. Judging from his expression, he wasn't a fan of Manny's cooking.

Bobby sighed loudly and put his hands on his hips, gazing down at the ground as if searching for answers to some pretty profound questions. His reaction garnered him a sharp look from Ranger, but the medic didn't back down.

"Problem, Brown?"

"Not at the moment," he said bluntly. "But I'm putting you and me in Steph's vehicle. She can drive and you'll be in the seat next to her."

"No."

Steph flinched but Bobby didn't. "Yes."

It was a direct challenge to Ranger's authority. She was hurt by Ranger's immediate rejection, as if the thought of even being in the same vehicle as her was unthinkable. He'd never acted like that before, and she was surprised at how much it really did hurt.

 _Get a grip, Plum. You're not riding the school bus._

The rest of the Merry Men, with a fine sense of when to be out of range, scattered to either recheck the supplies, scout the clearing or find other Merry Men-ish things to do. Anything that would take them out of earshot of their boss whose temper was still uncertain.

"I'm not medically incapacitated, Brown," said Ranger quietly. "This is a command decision."

Steph was close enough to hear Bobby's teeth grind, and she thought seriously about volunteering to help Woody scout. Or get lost in the woods. Or anything that would get her away from this discussion.

"Less than twelve hours ago, you _were_ medically incapacitated," Bobby said. His voice was equally soft, but the rigid bulge of muscle in his forearm gave mute witness as to how much the effort cost him. "I know how far you can push yourself and how fast you burn through the painkillers when you do. I know for a fact you are about two hours from being fully incapacitated again. Therefore, I hereby exercise my medical authority and inform you what you can do, and how you are going to do it. If you override me, you can watch the rest of this play out the same way it started—with you flat on your back, helpless and unable to do anything but watch."

During the entire recitation, Bobby's voice never went above a low volume, but there was a cold, clinical detachment that roiled Steph's stomach with an icy fear she hadn't felt since Ranger first went down. Her fingers curled into her palms, the nails razoring the tender skin, and she wanted nothing more than to be somewhere else. Ranger's gaze flicked from Bobby to her, and she flinched away from it.

"Umm, I'm going to go—" Words failed her and she pointed towards the driver's seat, jittering a little when she remembered she was supposed to be responsible and not move without a Merry Man. But then Ranger took a step towards her and Steph bolted towards the haven of the inside of the vehicle.

She fumbled with the door handle, losing her grip at least twice before managing to coordinate her mind and body enough to lift and pull. The door opened just as a muscular arm went around her waist and she was swung off her feet. Steph fought back, kicking with her heel and catching the idiot behind her at knee height.

The world tilted and then she fell backwards, still held suffocatingly tight. There was a moment of horrified clarity as her brain finally caught up with her body, then she landed on top of Ranger staring upwards at the clear mountain sky.

Steph sucked in a lungful of cold air, then _moved_ , scrambling off as the arms around her loosened. Ranger tried to keep his grip on her as she struggled and Steph twisted just enough that her knee planted in the one place she definitely didn't want it to go.

Most men would groan and grab themselves, instinctively curling into a fetal position to protect that particular tender spot. Ranger just wrapped his arms around her, the muscles in his forearm flexing as a spasm of pain passed over his face. She stared down at him, wide-eyed and close to panic, then yelped as Bobby lifted her off.

"Good job, Bombshell," he said as he set her on her feet. "Saves me hours of arguing and bullshit macho posturing."

Ranger groaned at that, rolling to a sitting position and resting his forearms on his knees as he bent forward and breathed deeply. Steph was thankful she had absolutely no urge to laugh; she wasn't quite sure that Ranger could catch her in his current condition, but he also had a long memory and his version of payback would be memorable.

"I didn't mean to do... _that_ ," she said timidly, hoping at least that the medic would protect her if Ranger decided immediate payback was required. "It's just that he grabbed me and—"

"—and Ranger of all people should know better than to manhandle you," Bobby said. He nudged her towards the SUV. "Go get comfortable. We'll move out as soon as I check this guy over."

With one last scared look at Ranger, Steph bolted. She didn't relax until she had the driver's door pried open and slid into the cushioned seat. Once she had the door shut and locked, the hyperventilation started. Somehow, despite all her good intentions, she had pissed off Ranger, and added insult to injury by kicking his bad knee and damaging his dignity as well as his groin.

 _So much for being hurt that he didn't want to ride in the same vehicle as you._

Steph groaned, and thunked her head on the steering wheel. Even when she was trying to do the right thing, and follow the rules and be conscious of her safety and the safety of others, she still managed to wreak havoc and mayhem.

 _Maybe Joe was right. I am a walking disaster, no matter how hard I try._

Steph sat with her forehead resting against the steering wheel, well aware she would have the imprint on her face the longer she stayed there, and tried not to think. Thinking led to remembering, and Joe's words were the kind that gnawed at her the longer she listened to them.

A sudden gust of wind outside sprinkled a handful of dried leaves across the front hood and flung them against the windshield. As Woody said, this high in the mountains the seasons changed early. Where summer had been fading gently in Jersey, fall thundered over the rocks with the cold force of winter hard on its heels.

Pretty much like the ruin of her life thundering down on her like an avalanche.

Steph shivered just as the passenger door opened to reveal a tight-lipped Ranger with Bobby hovering solicitously behind him. Steph slid her eyes in that direction, peeking out from under her hair as he gingerly angled into the SUV and settled into the seat beside her. Ranger sighed uncharacteristically and leaned his head back with his eyes closed as Bobby shut the door.

"I'm sorry."

The words slipped out of Steph before she could stop them. Her heart hurt seeing Ranger so quiet and reserved, like he'd pulled back inside himself and shut the walls tightly around him. Injured and unconscious Ranger seemed much easier to reach than this version who closed himself away from everyone.

He didn't answer right away, long enough that Steph feared he wouldn't. A muscle tightened in his jaw and Ranger opened his eyes and turned to meet her gaze.

"I can't do this right now," he said, his voice neutral and flat in a way that drove the knife deeper into her heart. "We could get stopped at the border, and the time it would take to untangle the mess would be enough to bring every would-be contract mercenary down on us. Strip out the emotion, Stephanie, and focus on the goal. Anything else could get us all killed."

The lump in her throat thickened, and Steph swallowed, nearly choking on it. The fear was back, infecting her with a weakness that she hated. If this was Trenton, she would have backed out by now, more than willing to let the big boys play without her.

"— _pat you on the head—"_

" _I will never treat you like a child…"_

Joe and Ranger's words tangled in her head, knotting into a pressure point directly behind her right eye. Steph automatically rubbed at it, but Ranger caught her hand as her fingers touched the skin. She flinched instinctively at his touch, and he let go like the contact burned.

"Babe, I know you can't stand the sight of me right now, but I need you to keep it together. Can you do that?"

Steph forced herself to nod, ignoring the stinging in her eyes. "Yeah, I can do that. I promise I'll play it just the way you tell me to."

"Good." He inhaled deeply, dropping his hand into his lap.

Since Ranger closed his eyes again, Steph thought it was safe to let her gaze follow his hand. She tried to tell herself that she was just as concerned about the condition of his knee, but if Steph was going to be brutally honest with herself or the Universe in general, Ranger's knee wasn't the best part of his body.

Or her most favorite.

And the fact that she'd landed the shot Morelli deserved far more than Ranger had absolutely nothing to do with the current amount of guilt she was carrying around.

His index finger moved and Steph jumped, snapping her eyes to front and center while heat flooded her cheeks. The whisper of Ranger's laugh brushed against her skin and any solicitous feelings she might have entertained walked right off the nearest cliff and pancaked against the friendly Canadian rocks.

 _Next time I'll pivot on that knee before I get up—_

With the heat flushing her face an unbecoming shade of red, there was no way that Steph was facing forward. She hitched herself towards the door, making a very big show of gazing out the window to scan the perimeter.

Or something important like that.

"Babe."

The skin crawled between her shoulders, but Steph didn't turn around. Her mouth firmed, settling into a stubborn line. Steph just barely caught herself before she crossed her arms over her chest and instead forced herself to keep them loose and relaxed in her lap. Keeping it together wasn't easy in the best of times. Still, she knew that she'd gotten better at it; if Tank happened to toss a drug addict off a cliff, she wouldn't have hysterics this time.

Although to be strictly logical, Canada probably hadn't installed fire escapes on all of their cliffs yet.

Movement to her right, straight ahead through the windshield, caught her attention. Steph turned just enough that she could track the shift in the branches. Her hand eased towards the Glock in her pocket, resting lightly on the grip as Hal slipped out of the underbrush. Steph didn't relax until she saw the other Merry Men emerge from the woods.

"You need to take a trip into the trees?" Ranger asked softly.

Steph considered the question for a long moment, then shook her head. "No, I'm good until we stop to eat."

"Stephanie, it's not—"

She held up a finger and Ranger stopped, a reaction that both pleased and spooked her. Without turning around, she considered everything that had happened in the last thirty minutes and tried to decide if she really wanted to get into this now. Her first instinct was _no_ and the second was _hell, no!_ which meant she had to face this head on.

"Ranger," she said as she shifted in the seat to face him, "I really think that we—"

Steph's voice trailed off. The pain in his dark eyes was the deep, searing pain of rejection and uncertainty, and Steph couldn't hide from the fact that he was suffering because of her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, forcing the words past the lump in her throat. "I really want to—"

He closed his eyes and she stopped, unsure whether he wanted to hear the rest. When Ranger let his head fall back on the headrest, Steph swallowed hard and realized that she had her answer. The pain of being so close to him and yet not be able to touch him was too much in the enclosed space. Her hand was on the door handle and Steph let herself slide out of the driver's seat before she questioned whether it was a good idea.

"Steph—"

The rest of Ranger's words were cut off as she closed the door behind her. Steph stood with her back to it for a long moment, then realized that nothing would stop him from coming after her except for distance.

Steph started walking towards Ram where he stood behind the other SUV rifling through an open duffle bag. The butt of his .45 resting in its shoulder holster poked out of the open jacket, and his favorite knife lay in its sheath next to his foot.

"Hey, Bomber," he said absently as she approached. "You looking for the little girls' room again?"

"No, I am not looking for the—" Steph broke off and reined in her temper. She was pretty sure the steam was starting to shoot out of her ears, and her fingers curled inward even as they itched to wrap around something more substantial.

Like the neck of egotistical, self-satisfied males whose sole challenge when answering nature's call in the brush was deciding which tree to use. Or even whether to use a tree at all.

It took several deep breaths to bring her anger down to a simmer. Ram wisely kept his mouth shut, no doubt exercising some of that situational awareness Ranger always preached at her. Either that or he had a very well-developed sense of self-preservation which the man in black seemed to be seriously lacking lately.

With a heavy sigh, Steph plopped onto the ground next to Ram, propping her elbow on her knee and resting her chin on her hand. The cold seeped into her skin through her jeans almost immediately, making Steph wish she'd stayed in the vehicle with its heated seats. The hair on the back of her neck stirred and she resolutely kept her gaze away from the SUV in question, knowing Ranger was watching her and he probably wasn't overly happy at the moment.

"So…trees?" Ram asked.

Steph ducked her head. "No, and I wish people would quit asking me, like I've been sucking down Big Gulps and can't figure out how to take care of things myself."

He was silent as he zipped up the bag. Steph watched his large fingers deftly handle the little metal tab, and remembered Ranger brushing his finger across her cheek to wipe away a tear with the same soft touch.

Another sigh escaped her, and Ram rested both hands on his hips, staring at her keenly. "You gonna make it, Bombshell? Or do we need to start thinking about implementing Option B?"

"Option B?" Steph shook her head, not following his train of thought. "What the hell is Option B?"

He didn't answer her right away, and understanding dawned slowly. "You mean tuck my tail between my legs and run for the tropical paradise?"

"It's still an option," Ram pointed out in a reasonable voice.

Too bad for him she had reached the tipping point with males being reasonable.

Steph clenched her fists, aware that between her scary blonde hair sproinging back into a curly mop and the bruises and abrasions decorating the visible parts of her body, she probably looked like a Shih Tzu that had been dragged through a hedge maze by a Great Dane puppy. But she wasn't a cute adorable little dog and they weren't anywhere close to a manicured hedge.

But nothing about what had happened meant she could ignore how much of her fumbling, bumbling and bad luck they had endured with remarkable good nature, and Steph knew damn well none of it gave her the privilege of acting like she was the only one who mattered here.

So she borrowed a page from Ranger's book of Zen calm and breathed deep, reining in her irritation and temper before answering.

"I appreciate your offer, but the answer is still no." She paused, pleased the sentence came out relatively calmly. "I'm a big girl, and I need to deal and keep moving."

Ram didn't say anything for a really long moment, long enough that Steph rechecked what she said to make sure it wasn't insulting or offensive or—

She squeaked when he reached across the distance separating them and gave her a hearty slap on the shoulder. The blow nearly flattened her, but somehow Steph stayed upright, catching herself with a hand thrown out to the ground in front of her.

"Sorry, Bombshell." Ram steadied her until she regained her balance. "I'm sure my name is mud right now with the boss, but it's good to hear you say things like that."

"As opposed to whining about the long drive, the lack of civilized food and cell reception?" Steph asked. She couldn't blame him for being happy she wasn't singing the same old tune of affronted Jersey Girl, but from the way her shoulder stung it was a good bet she would have additional bruises by tomorrow morning.

He had the grace to flush at the words. "Yeah, we were waiting for the Jersey Girl to make an appearance. Lester has a plane on standby in Helena and Seattle, just in case it's needed. But we hoped you wouldn't change your mind."

"Because?" Steph narrowed her eyes at him. Ram had the faintest dimple at the right corner of his mouth, and it always made an appearance when he was bent on teasing someone. "You wanted me to blow up something bigger than a safe house?"

The dimple deepened adorably. "We're in mountains with fault lines and dormant volcanoes. I don't think blowing up is going to be a problem for anyone."

Suddenly the curse that had dogged her steps ever since she started bounty hunting didn't seem so funny. "I can't blow up the entire Rocky Mountains, Ram. No matter how much pull Ranger has with the federal government to cover it up, my mom would find out and there would be no pineapple upside down cake. _Ever_. She'd cut off my kids and their kids to the tenth generation!"

"You won't blow up the Rocky Mountains," said Ram. "You wouldn't be the first to try and if they didn't manage it, you don't even have to worry about a little rockslide down the side of a steep mountain."

"Who's blowing up the Rocky Mountains?" asked Bobby as he came up behind them, his hands full of several boxes the size of car batteries.

Ram nodded towards Steph. "She's afraid her bad car karma is going to flatten the mountains since she managed to be in the area when Manny's frying pan met its untimely end near a gas pipe."

"You're not going to blow up the mountains," Bobby said firmly.

Steph peered up at him. "Promise?"

"Promise." The RangeMan medic leaned over and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. "Get off the cold ground and strap yourself in. We're just about to head out."

Her gaze tracked towards the SUV. Bobby followed the direction she was looking and dumped his boxes in Ram's arms so he could pull her upright.

"Don't worry about it," he said, "because I can guarantee that it isn't worth that kind of stress."

"This is Ranger."

He pushed her towards the driver's side of the SUV. "You were grabbed from behind and defended yourself. Once he has the chance to think about it rationally, Ranger will be proud you reacted with the intent to do maximum damage."

The reminder of her unfortunate knee slowed her steps even more. "So why couldn't I do it when there was actually a bad guy? Why do I keep hurting the good ones?"

Bobby squeezed her into his side in a one-armed hug. Turning her to face him, he pulled her into a second hug that squashed her against his chest.

"Uh, can't breathe," she squeaked out as her lungs struggled to pull in air.

"Sorry," said Bobby as he released her. "In my professional opinion, you're over-thinking this. Ranger wants the best for you, and he stepped aside many times because he wanted you to decide for yourself who you wanted. I know you feel bad about getting his injured knee, but he needs the reminder that he has some very bad injuries."

"I'm not feeling better, Bobby," she muttered, staring down at her clenched hands.

The RangeMan medic slung an arm around her neck, pulling her closer. "Sorry again, sweetie. Can you keep your chin up for a few more days? I promise I will sit Ranger down and the two of you can clear the air and start new."

"That would be nice," Steph said, trying to summon up some enthusiasm for the idea. But quite frankly, the thought of facing off with Ranger to talk about emotions was about as attractive as running naked through the woods in broad daylight during winter fly fishing season.

Bobby turned away from her abruptly, choking as he bent over the bumper. At first Steph panicked, thinking the medic was suffering from a medical emergency. Then his body shook and she realized that he was laughing and bravely trying to muffle it.

She frowned, then her eyes widened as she realized her mouth had outrun her brain— _again_. Hastily, Steph reviewed what she'd been thinking, then groaned and thunked her head against the SUV.

"Just shoot me now."

Bobby scooped her up, swinging her around so she had to clutch at his arms until he set her down again. "Nobody is going to shoot you, Steph. Anyone who even entertained the thought would be instantly flattened and then sat on until he came to his senses."

Steph kept her gaze squarely on the ground, not even glancing towards the vehicle where Ranger was no doubt brooding with a dark intensity that could burn holes in the bare rock. The very thought of someone like Hal sitting on his boss made her bite her lip to keep the giggle in. It was a funny thought, but she was sure that even an injured Ranger could take any of his men, up to and including Tank.

"We'd gang up on him," Bobby whispered as he turned her towards the SUV. "Climb on up, Bomber, and remember what I said. Don't say anything in haste that we're going to have to unravel later, okay?"

"I'll do my best." Steph mentally cracked her knuckles and did some deep breathing as Bobby led her to SUV. He opened the door and boosted her up, even though she didn't need the help, and waited until her seat belt was securely fastened before he closed the door. Steph wrapped her fingers around the steering wheel, the ridged leather covering it pressed into her skin, and tried to relax.

It wasn't easy with the perfect specimen of male pulchritude sitting within three feet of her and watching her like a jungle panther coiled to pounce.

"Babe, I'm not going to bite."

She recognized that flat tone of voice very well, having heard it when he told her to go back to Morelli, and when he told her there was no price, and that he carried too many black marks against his soul for the things he'd done.

It was the voice he used when he hid a great deal of pain, and needed to mask the vulnerable places in the defenses he wrapped tightly around his heart. Even without turning her head, Steph could see the coldness in his dark eyes, and the harsh settled lines of his face and the rigid set of his shoulders, all of it designed to create space between Ranger and the people most capable of hurting him.

Steph focused on her fingers, clenched so tight around the steering wheel that her knuckles were turning white. Her breath was shallow and fast, and she had to close her eyes for a moment when the world tried to tilt sideways.

 _Breathe. You can do this._

Concentrating on her fingers, Steph straightened them out one by one. Her joints cracked as she fought against herself, and it took all her Hungarian stubbornness to force the digits to behave. When her last finger released the steering wheel, she raised her hands so she wouldn't be tempted to grab on again.

"Stephanie, what are you doing?"

She still couldn't look at him, so she settled for flapping one hand in his direction, desperate that Ranger shouldn't break her concentration at such a critical point. She was going to act like a mature adult and sit quietly in this seat without causing any more problems. This was something she had to do, and by God she was going to do it.

Her hand still hovered in midair, forgotten as Steph celebrated that first small victory. Then strong fingers closed over them, pulling her away from the steering wheel and Steph found herself face to face with Ranger, his defenses no longer up and his emotions completely visible in his eyes.

Steph's own eyes widened and heat flared in her veins. If Ranger was dangerously sexy when he was in badass mode, completely vulnerable Ranger was downright lethal. And right now all that high-octane animal magnetism was focused directly and completely on her.

Time froze around them. Birds may have still been flying through the air, and the sun might still be shining somewhere below the eastern horizon, but inside that SUV, Steph was only aware of the man holding her hand and the rest of her captive. In that endless moment, she saw clearly the reality of the role Ranger played in her life. He was more than a constant temptation and occasional lover, more than a steadfast friend and unpredictable soulmate.

From the surprise flaring in his dark eyes, Steph deduced that Ranger was having the same kind of epiphany about her.

Steph watched her free hand cross the space between them, and her fingers brushed against the shirt covering Ranger's chest. Electricity, sharp and potent, jolted the nerve endings under her skin, and Steph bit her lip against the sensations speeding through her, but she didn't stop.

Tension sang across her senses as her fingers curled into the material of his shirt, tenting it and gathering it into her grip. A muscle in her forearm flexed and shortened, and Steph watched as Ranger leaned forward, drawn by her hold and maybe from a different hold neither one of them wanted to deny.

Her lips settled over his, moving to taste his mouth with the tentativeness of a woman unsure of his response. Ranger held himself still, letting go of her other hand. His hands rested on the console, out of the way, but his lips made up for the absence. Steph was still in control, but for every time her tongue touched his, Ranger rewarded her with a soft sound that only fanned the inferno inside of her hotter.

Something hit the windshield, thumping against the glass. Steph jerked back, her hand automatically slapping against her chest as her heart raced for a different reason than it had only a few seconds ago. She stared wide-eyed at Ranger, noting the way his breath came quick and shallow and his dark eyes burned with the same emotions she felt roiling inside of her.

The passenger side back door was wrenched open. "All right, you two. Knock it off before I find a glacier-fed stream."

Bobby tossed his medical kit into the back cargo area and slid into the seat. He ignored the hasty way Steph faced forward, her hands going back to the steering wheel and resuming their death grip on it. Instead, the RangeMan medic made a show of getting settled behind Ranger and buckling his seat belt.

As Hector climbed into the seat behind Steph, she managed to gather her thoughts together enough to get her own belt fastened, but her hands were shaking badly as she grabbed the keys from the center console. It took her three tries to get the right one fitted into the ignition, but it finally slid home.

The engine roared to life, and she dropped her hand to the gear shift on the center console, using the pretense of checking it to glance quickly at the man she'd been ready to climb over the console and have her wicked way with just minutes before.

That single glance was distinctly unsatisfactory. He sat relaxed in the seat, his head tilted back against the head rest and his eyes half-closed. A faint smile tipped the corners of his mouth upright and his hands rested loose and open on his legs. To all outward appearances, Ranger Manoso was obediently following his medic's advice and resting as they drove towards Canada's southern border.

Steph clenched her jaw to hold in her instinctive words and she put the SUV into drive. Ram was behind the wheel in the other vehicle, and they backed carefully out of the clearing so she could take the lead.

Her grip on the steering wheel tightened, and Steph wished for what she suspected wouldn't be the last time that she hadn't been quite so determined to pull her own weight. The vehicle bumped into the ruts and Steph accelerated carefully towards the next phase of their wild adventure.


	22. Chapter 22

_All recognizable characters belong to Janet Evanovich and are used here without intent to profit. Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed. And on a side note, I am really glad October 2019 is over. Yeesh._

* * *

The wind hurled heavy rain against the windshield and Steph nudged the speed of the wipers up one more notch. A shiver ran across her shoulders as she squinted through the torrent at the grey gloom outside. Where before the SUV seemed more than warm enough, an icy chill drifted across her skin, making her think wistfully of the heavy blankets she'd had on the cargo plane.

The wheels skidded on the pavement as another gust of wind pushed the entire vehicle sideways. Steph swore under her breath as she corrected yet again.

"You've got it, Steph," said Bobby from his spot in the back. He leaned forward and rested a hand on her shoulder. It was a comforting weight, reminding her that he had her back, even if she was in way over her head. Maybe he also knew she was nervous about the part she would play at the border, and didn't want her exhausted by the time they reached the checkpoint.

Only she _was_ exhausted. Between the middle of the night storm at the cabin and Junior's injuries, added onto the misunderstanding or argument or whatever between her and Ranger, and now this, Steph was about tapped out. She desperately wanted a nap, or a vacation, or even a double espresso made with an energy drink instead of water.

A warm, heavy, very familiar touch settled on her knee, and Steph risked taking her eyes off the road long enough to glance down. The warmth between Ranger's palm and her skin beneath the jeans chased away the chill skittering across her flesh and eased the tightness in the center of her chest.

"You've got this, Babe."

The whisper was so soft that Steph couldn't be sure it was real. She started to glance towards the seat beside her, but the SUV jerked again and she wearily muscled it back onto the straight and not-nearly-as-narrow road running south.

A fat drop of rain fell at eye level and Steph stared at the chunky crystals clinging to the glass before they rapidly melted away. Then another joined it, and another, until the light changed from gloomy dark grey to a pearlescent white that did nothing for the nerves reknotting in the pit of her stomach.

"Just slow down a little," said Bobby as he shifted towards the edge of his seat to better talk to her. "Stay easy on the accelerator and brake and you should be fine."

"I've driven through New Jersey winters before," said Steph as the wheels slipped again. "I think I can manage a little snow."

She didn't have to look away from the road to know Bobby and Ranger were doing the damn ESP thing. A growl clogged her throat, the reaction of an independent woman who had faced more than a few obstacles on her own. If there was one thing she knew how to do, driving in inclement weather up to and including nor'easters was one of them.

Ranger's phone buzzed and he answered it with his standard one word greeting. From her place next to him, Steph heard Lester's familiar voice talking rapidly, although she couldn't decipher whether he was speaking Spanish or English.

She risked a glance at Ranger and hastily swung her eyes back to the road. Whatever information Lester was reporting from RangeMan Trenton, it wasn't anything to make his boss and cousin happy. Ranger's silence grew stony and when Lester finished speaking, Ranger disconnected without saying anything.

"Well?" she asked. "Was that Lester?"

"Yes," said Ranger curtly. He didn't elaborate, and another glance at his expression persuaded Steph that he wouldn't appreciate being pestered.

A bolt of lighting flared in the sky directly above the road, its jagged branches jabbing through the puffy clouds and scorching them with its brightness. Steph flinched away from it instinctively, the motion tugging on the wheel and sending the SUV slewing sideways.

"Easy, Bomber," said Bobby. "Ease off the gas a little more. If this gets any heavier, we'll have to pull over and put the chains on before we reach the border."

Ranger shook his head. "No. We head straight through. Lester's put ears into the Border Patrol and they've seen bad activity around at least two of the crossing points."

Bobby muttered under his breath. "Piermont?"

"Yeah." Ranger closed his lips over any other words.

"Do you think the safe house is compromised?"

Steph tensed as Ranger took his time answering. While the snow was coming down thicker and heavier, splotching the windshield with great white blobs that melted quickly, it still didn't frighten her. The thought of not having any place safe to go to ground, where Ranger could relax and heal, did.

"Lester and Tank have eyes on the suspects," he said finally. "We're going to cross the border as planned, then separate in different directions. Bobby, you and Hector will take this SUV and head east. Stephanie and I will be 'detained' by the Border Patrol and then escorted to a secure holding facility."

"Absolutely—"

Ranger shut up Bobby with a look. "That's an order. Sunshine has arranged a non-traceable rental. We'll walk through the building and out the back door. We'll take a few back roads and head south and west, and rendezvous with the rest of you at the ranch. Any time a group can establish they are being tailed, they are authorized to capture or neutralize the perpetrators."

"And what if they latch onto you?" Bobby asked, not backing down. "Do you expect Steph to handle that on her own? Because I can damn well guarantee, she won't be able to protect herself and you at the same time, and you and I both know who she will sacrifice herself to save if she needs to."

"That's enough," said Ranger.

"No, it's not."

Steph risked a glance in the rearview mirror. "It's okay, Bobby. I just need a shoulder holster for your Glock and a good GPS, and I'll get Ranger to the meeting point without any problems."

"No offense, sweetie, but you shouldn't have to. Boss, at least let Hector go with you to help cover your back. Going off when you're still injured and Steph has to drive and protect your ass is asking for trouble."

"She can handle it," said Ranger in a tone that said he wasn't going to argue the point. "Concentrate on coordinating your movements with Hal and Manny. They'll be dropping off Ram and Woody after crossing the border."

"Dropping them off where?"

The question slipped out before Steph could stop it, and she bit her lip as Ranger turned his head to study her for a very long moment. Her foot jerked on the accelerator and she cursed as the SUV lurched. By the time she had things back under control, the moment had passed and the three men were deep in conversation. With Hector and Ranger involved, Spanish was the dominant language; Steph hadn't heard Bobby speak it before, but the words flew off his tongue with an ease that reminded her strongly of Lester.

The snow fell thicker and faster, in great white flakes. The ground quickly disappeared beneath a cover of white, and the flakes stuck in the pine trees until the branches sank downwards at a steep angle. Tension formed a knot in Steph's upper back, right between her shoulder blades. She instinctively rolled her shoulders as she peered through the curtain of snow, wishing the view was more of the tropical kind, where the only white she had to worry about was the glare off the pristine sand.

Ranger flipped on the defrost, adjusting the temperature and then the vents. Steph blinked, then realized half of her trouble seeing through the windshield had been coming from the glass frosting over from the cold precipitation hitting the surface. She blinked again, then risked a glance at Ranger

"Thanks."

A shiver ran through her as he met her gaze, his dark eyes glittering with a hard light. She waited for them to soften, to show some sign the anger he was controlling didn't extend to her, but she might as well have waited for the mountains to pick up and move on their own. " _De nada_ , Babe."

Steph forced herself to smile, even though the weight in her throat felt like she'd swallowed Manny's cast iron pan. The only sounds in the cab as she continued to fight the road was the murmur of Hector's voice in the back seat, occasionally cursing in his native tongue, and the squeal of the wipers scraping the melting snow and ice off the windshield.

The road passed underneath the wheels with gnawing slowness. She glanced down at the empty cup holder beside her and she wondered if there might be a stray thermos of coffee somewhere in the vehicle that had a few drops left in it.

"You need something, Steph?" Bobby asked.

She shrugged. "I forgot to fill up a cup of coffee to go at our last stop. Guess I missed the Starbuck's drive thru somehow."

Bobby laughed at that, but he cut it off abruptly when Ranger turned his head ever so slightly towards the back, and Hector said something under his breath that earned him a sharp rebuke in the same language from his boss. Steph didn't dare ask for a translation, but then a nudge on the back of her seat brought her gaze back to the reariew mirror where she found the former gang member leaning over so he could meet her gaze. He winked, so slight and so fast she was sure she had imagined it, then smiled and went back to his tablet once again.

Knowing Hector was still in her corner made it a little easier to concentrate on the road. Her focus lasted a little longer this time, but the inevitable yawn started to bubble up before she was ready to quash it. Steph's jaw creaked as she fought to keep her lips closed and her attention on the road, but then her eyes started tearing up from the strain and she finally let it out.

Plastic bumped against plastic as a covered thermal tumbler dropped into the empty holder next to her. Bobby sat back and Steph kept her eyes on the road as she slid the cover open and white, thick steam rose into the cooler air.

"Thanks, Bobby," she said, and took a cautious sip.

Warm liquid slid over her tongue and down her throat, starting a slow burn in the cold pit of her stomach. Steph took another sip, holding it in her mouth for a while to get the full effect of the bitterness she usually didn't enjoy. But the bite was just what she needed this time, and the caffeine hit her just as the second dose slid down to join the first.

The coffee helped Steph focus on the road disappearing under the snow, and she kept both hands on the steering wheel except when she took another swig of the coffee. Never once did she turn or glance at any of the men sharing the SUV with her.

But that didn't mean she wasn't acutely aware of the one sitting less than two feet from her, and her lips tingled every now and again with the memory of the scorching kiss he'd laid on her. Steph knew without a doubt that he was the man she wanted now more than ever in her life. As a friend, lover or something more, she knew she would follow him to the ends of the earth if needed.

The clouds ahead of her lightened abruptly, giving her just a few seconds of warning before the sun broke through. Steph squinted as its rays bounced off new fallen snow with painful intensity. Sunglasses appeared in front of her, held steady in Ranger's fingers. She murmured thanks and slid them on, breathing a little easier when the tinted lens dimmed the brightness.

Just as she turned her head back to the road in front of her, a flash of light above the trees to the right caught her attention. She thought it might be an errant bit of sun flaring on the snow crystals in the trees, but then she realized it was far above any of them, and moving in a fashion that wasn't natural.

"Do we have something in the air?" Steph asked quietly, fighting down the hot lick of panic that flashed through her.

The stillness in the SUV turned electric like a downed power line snaking through standing rain water. Ranger reached across the console and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her cheek bone as she tried to suppress the shiver running down her spine.

"Don't point," he said in a low voice, "but can you turn your head enough to show me where you saw it?"

And that right there was a big difference between Morelli and Ranger. The former would have scoffed at her question and told her she was seeing things. Ranger at least gave her the chance to prove herself; with Joe it was more about his opinion than hers.

Careful to keep her eyes glued to the road, Steph angled her head in the general direction where the flash had been. She had to fight against closing her eyes; Ranger's fingers cradled her cheek with a warmth and intimacy she found herself craving even as he lifted them away.

"Brown, scan from one o'clock to four," said Ranger, pretending to stretch out his legs and settle into his seat. He reclined the back, angling it so he could see the sky without being obvious about it. His left arm rested across his stomach, the fingers hidden between the seat and the door as he lifted his phone out and started tapping against the screen.

"I'm seeing nothing," said Bobby, his voice strangely muffled.

Steph choked as she checked the mirror and saw the RangeMan medic leaned over the back seat, ostensibly rummaging though the gear in the rear cargo area. At first, she couldn't figure out how he was able to see in that position, but a glint of silver in his hand made her realize he was holding a mirror in one hand and had angled it to scan the sky above the SUV.

Somehow she pulled her attention back to her driving, trying to follow the road as casually as if she were heading to Point Pleasant in the summer. With the sun breaking through the clouds, the darker surface of the road began heating up. Vapor rose off the spots already clear, spreading the sun's rays until she drove through a white light bordered by pine trees shaking off their snowy mantle on a patchy dark road where the wheels slipped in the slushy snow melt every so often.

"Got him," said Bobby from the back, his voice still muffled. The SUV bounced a little as he slid back into his seat. "I'm feeding the coordinates now."

Ranger was silent, tilting a little away from her to read the message on his phone. Steph slid her tongue across her lips, wetting them as the silence stretched on a little too long for her peace of mind. She shifted in the seat, tucking her free foot under the seat even though the new position caused her ankle to cramp.

"Hector, can you lock on their transmissions?" Ranger asked quietly. "Pinpoint the destination. Sunshine will want to know if they're using one of our satellites to bounce the signal to the true end point."

The former gang member muttered something that might have been assent, but it was lost in the rumble of the tires as they clattered over a section of ice ruts. The wheel jerked in Steph's hands and she gritted her teeth as her foot came off the accelerator and she tried to steer the vehicle in a forward direction.

Ranger's phone chirped. He checked the screen and powered his seat to the upright position.

"Buckle up," he said in a calm, detached voice. "Once Hector interrupts their feed, they'll know we've made them. Steph, keep your attention on the road in front of you. We may have to veer off if they have ground support waiting in ambush."

"Ambush?" Steph cringed at the squeak in her voice, but under the circumstances she was happy she could speak at all. Visions of Manny's skilled driving on the Turnpike flashed through her head, and Steph regretted not paying closer attention when the Merry Men were demonstrating their mad skills.

 _Well, that's going to be changing._

"You'll do fine, sweetie," said Bobby. "Ranger, do you need extra belts?"

"No, I'm good." He swiped his thumb across the screen of his smartphone and slid it into the pocket of the door. "Ram will circle around and cross in front of us, see if he can rattle their cages so they make a mistake."

"What if _I_ make a mistake?" Steph asked, trying to fight down panic. "What if I roll the SUV and one of you gets ejected?"

 _What if I finally succeed in killing Ranger, just because I'm incompetent?_

A movement in her side mirror caught her attention, interrupting her train of thought and replacing it with sheer terror. Right above the faint letters stating objects in the mirror are closer than they appear was the image of a semi tractor trailer barreling out of the white snow fog and heading straight for the back end of her SUV.

Her foot slammed onto the accelerator and the SUV fishtailed wide as the wheels sought purchase on the road. Ranger automatically braced his hand against the dashboard, twisting in his seat to glance out the back window. Perversely it made Steph feel a little better to hear him curse. That good feeling lasted all of two seconds, the span of time between Ranger turning and the semi tapping the back bumper with a spine-rattling jolt.

In the movies there was always a loud noise, and screams, and shouted orders. The only screaming Steph heard was the one in her head yelling for her not to screw this up. Then the semi hit the bumper again, and she didn't have time to think or scream any more as the force of the contact shoved them straight towards the thick, wide trunk of a massive pine near the side of the road.

Instinct and sheer stubborn will took over. Steph cranked hard on the wheel, fighting the momentum of the sheer tonnage behind the SUV pushing it forward. The entire vehicle shuddered, the tires squealing. Then she overcorrected in the other direction, the change whipping the SUV violently around, shaking them free.

Steph had time for one breath of exultation that the maneuver worked before the SUV impacted with something hard and immovable. Her head jerked sideways, so hard her brain bounced off the inside of her skull and fireworks erupted before her eyes. The SUV ground to a halt with an ominous sound and everything was still again.

"Steph, you okay?"

She shook her head, then winced and decided not to do that again. Her vision was still fuzzy, and her hearing muffled, and nothing worked the way it was supposed to.

The driver's side door wrenched open and she shrieked, not sure if this was another attack. Her right hand scrabbled for something loose in the console she could throw at the attacker, but before her fingers could close over anything, Steph blinked and recognized Hector.

"What—"

He grinned, a grim smile fitting oddly with the cold glitter in his dark eyes. The former gang member pushed her back in her seat and checked her neck and head for bumps and bruises. There were plenty to find; just about everywhere on her body hurt, either from bouncing around or from the seatbelt catching her across her shoulder and chest. The only good thing was the air bags hadn't gone off, otherwise Steph was certain she would look like the wrong end of a rugby scrum.

To her right, Bobby had Ranger already out of his seat and moving towards the back end of the vehicle. Her own motions slow, Steph unbuckled her seat belt, wincing as her body protested loudly. Hector held her steady as she slid out of the damaged driver's side, and kept an arm around her waist when the world decided it didn't want to stay still.

A groan slipped out of her as the former gang member guided her towards the front wheel of the SUV so she could lean against the battered and dented hood. Her breath puffed out in the cool air and Steph shivered, hard enough that Hector fetched a blanket from the first aid kit. As he wrapped the heavy folds around her shoulders, she looked around to check on the extent of the damage.

The second time the wince was more of a shudder. The SUV sat half on the shoulder and half off, about fifty yards behind and on the opposite side of the road from what was left of the semi. Flames licked around the trailer where it had rolled onto its side. The cab was upright but facing the road at right angles and with an ominous star on the windshield directly in front of the driver's seat. Nothing moved except for a crow taking flight from the trees, its caws adding to the sense of horror as she tried to pull her thoughts together.

Hector gently probed at Steph's head and neck. She covered her flinch when he hit a tender spot on her head, but he frowned and paused before moving on. Steph leaned heavily against the hood of the vehicle, trying to be strong, but when Hector moved down to her hip and leg, she turned away so he wouldn't see the tears from the pain.

The second SUV screeched to a halt on the road between the wrecked semi and their crumpled vehicle, blocking in Ranger and Bobby so they were better protected. Steph heard Ranger swear as Hal and Manny bailed from the SUV, their guns drawn and trained on the still-silent cab of the semi. Peeking around the blocking vehicle, Steph caught a flicker of movement in the cab and tried to scream out a warning. She scrabbled for the Glock with shaking fingers, sure with a dread certainty that she was too late and would see everyone she loved die in a hail of gunfire.

Everything happened in slow motion, too quickly to follow. The black muzzle of a rifle balanced on the broken window glass above the door. It swung towards Hal, walking cautiously towards the semi, and just as Steph's fingers closed around the handle of Bobby's Glock, the deep report of Ranger's gun echoed off the pine trees.

Hal moved with a speed she didn't think possible; he sprinted and dove into the underbrush behind the semi with only the crackle of splitting branches to mark where he went in. Then Hector grabbed her and pulled her behind the SUV, checking her over for bullet holes. When Steph shook her head to let him know she wasn't hit, the former gang member pulled her towards the back of the vehicle to join Bobby and Ranger.

There was a time to argue and a time to shut up and follow Hector's lead. Given the number of bullets flying through the air, Steph elected to go with the latter. She bit down on the inside of her cheek and kept quiet as Hector guided her towards safety.

More gunshots rang out, and Steph couldn't decide which was more terrifying—the ones pinging off the SUV or the ones ricocheting off the pavement. One time she could have sworn she felt a puff of air as one sailed past her, and she ignored the trembling in her legs that was part pain and part fear as she duck-walked faster after Hector.

Ranger knelt by the back bumper, his gun held in a firm grip that belied the paleness of his skin. Sweat soaked his t-shirt and his bad leg stuck awkwardly out to the side, but there was nothing uncertain about his focus on the semi trailer, where the driver held off Manny and Bobby by the sheer volume of bullets.

Hector urged Steph into the spot next to Ranger, close enough that her leg bumped against his. A shadow of pain passed over his face, but he didn't look around. Instead, he held out his free hand to her, and she slid her cold hand into his, grateful for the strength of his grip.

This part of the ditch was inclined steeply, meaning the SUV was tipped sharply away from the road. It gave them sturdier cover than if they were using the vehicle alone, but it also meant Steph couldn't see a whole lot other than the trailer and the occasional glimpse of Manny and Bobby as they kept the driver pinned down in the cab with wickedly accurate pinpoint fire.

Her chest hurt from trying to drag air into lungs that wouldn't work right. Carefully, Steph braced her free hand against the back bumper and shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position. It was the last clear thing she remembered. The rest was a blur of sound and horror as everything happened at once.

Someone grabbed her around the waist, pulling her off balance so she pitched headfirst into the bottom of the ditch and into a drift of rapidly melting snow. A heavy weight landed on top of her, shoving her face deep into the drift. Steph felt the cold sting against her skin, felt the air rushing out of her lungs and then the thunder of a titanic explosion wiped out sight and sound and thought, shaking the ground with the anger of giants and plunging the world into darkness.


End file.
